In the midst of the holy place, which he had formerly profaned, lay the body of his unfortunate mother, and he could not help looking upon her untimely end as the retributive vengeance of Heaven for the crime he had committed. I’m not Gerald, remember. " "Oh! let me die," groaned the widow. CHAPTER I. Certain phases of irony always caused him to chuckle audibly. The very sight of these impediments, would have appalled a less courageous spirit than Sheppard's—but nothing could daunt him. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors.
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