"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. If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself. It was a hoax, it was the only thing possible, until she heard Cathy say, “Let me hold those for you. Wild of the circumstance. But, when? When do they go?’ ‘Today, miss.
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