She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. . He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple. “They are full of the usual foolish stories. "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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