He thrust the smaller weapon into a scabbard that hung from his belt. "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. His safety must be looked to. ” “Well, why not?” Lady Lescelles asked, smiling. “I cannot keep silence any longer. He’s terrible!” “Dad!” Lucy smiled at John.
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