"I dare not, Rowland," she answered. " "Because this child's life was threatened by the persons you have mentioned," rejoined Wood. ‘You cannot be always with me. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. Will you not, brother?" "Promise," said a deep voice in Trenchard's ear. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. Her neck was smeared with red and remorse flooded him. "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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