On weighing the matter over, he grew so uneasy that he resolved to descend, and inform him of his misgivings. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. "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. For a time they walked in silence. I’m afraid I’m a terribly clumsy fellow.
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