CHAPTER XXXII. "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. Someone, it appeared, was trying to profit from that fact. . com This book was previously issued with a different cover. A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the water.
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