"Before to- morrow night that boy shall join his father. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. "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. Do you know much of his background?’ ‘Only that he is, or was, related to the Vicomte de Valade. I have only seen your sister for a very brief time, and I am a little past the age when a man does headstrong things. ” He shook his head, and threw open the door of a great dimly-lit apartment on the ground floor.
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