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Impelled by a feeling,
into which we shall not pause to inquire, the stranger started after them; but they
were better mounted, and soon distanced 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. Laughed at me, then. "
"They are useless," she returned. “There was a man called Montague Hill,” she said hoarsely, “but he is dead. This "fatal retreat for the unfortunate brave" was
marked by a low wooden railing, within which stood the triple tree. "You do love me?"
"God knows how much!" Suddenly he laid his head on her shoulder. "
"You do not remember me, I dare say," observed the stranger. "Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on
her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see
again, I'm sure. I don’t want to hear you.
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This video was uploaded to gnusocial.club on 08-07-2024 13:57:27