If you attempt to play the traitor, you will do so at the hazard of your life. His mother used to live i' this village, just down yonder; but when her son took to bad ways, she went distracted,—and now she's i' Bedlam, I've heerd. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. A lesson learned. She sensed that he was looking for her. He laughed once or twice at himself as he paced backwards and forwards. He was afraid if he stayed that he would make a fool of himself. . ” He sat down on her left side and put his hand on her knee, gesturing with his other hand. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that. I will go to-night. "I cannot remain here long. His mind was busy with a résumé of yesterday's unusual events.
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