And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. It was ten feet long, a relic. Are you prepared to do it?” Her hands clenched. She wondered what the problem was, why the buildup? She wanted to go to his apartment that evening but stayed herself. ‘Well?’ he uttered between heavy breaths. ‘You would like? And do you imagine that I will tell you?’ ‘Won’t you?’ ‘No, a thousand times. But then—Oh! Madam, there are moments—moments of darkness, which overshadow a whole existence—in the lives of the poor houseless wretches who traverse the streets, when reason is well-nigh benighted; when the horrible promptings of despair can, alone, be listened to; and when vice itself assumes the aspect of virtue. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. Disperse in every direction.
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