" The shock of hearing this title pronounced was equally distributed between Ruth and her husband; but it aroused two absolutely different emotions. ‘I think,’ he said pleasantly, ‘that it would be as well if you, Hilary, were to go and fetch the troops. If Mr. “Do you believe me now?” She asked. Even the stars were strangers. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. "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. Leaning upon a gate he looked down into the valley. To-night we leave for Marseilles. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. He would know the truth then once and for all. " "We may believe as much of that as we please, I suppose," observed the carpenter's wife, with a sneer.
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