"Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. And I am grateful to you. Sepulchre's church, where, in compliance with an old custom, it halted. Your name?" "Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it. ’ ‘I think you—’ He broke off abruptly, astonished at what he had been about to say. "He first seduced him from the paths of honesty, and then betrayed him to a shameful death, and he has sworn to do the same thing by my son. ’ He glanced at the portrait behind her.
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