"Stevenson threw back his head and made a slow murmuring sound, "If only I could secure a violent death." "Pardon?" "What a fine success!" Stevenson continued, spurring Jack into a canter as he lost himself in his thoughts. "I wish to die in my boots, you see, Mr. Porter. To be drowned, to be shot, to be thrown from this horse into a ditch, Mr. Fergins--aye, to be hanged, rather than pass through the slow dissolution of illnesses!"