Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. "Lor' ha' mussy, Sir!—how you do talk," said the woman; "this is no robber, I'm sure. She's the boss. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. It would be downright cruel to disillusion her. "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.
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