—Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. But he held the smile until she turned away from the curtain. "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. A sacrifice. . "And now, I've one further request," faltered Jack; "though I scarcely know how to make it. "He; also, has paid the penalty of his offences," returned Thames. Give me the books. “Not since 1582 when I left him and came to America.
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