Sanford
either; but I shall always know, and life will never be the same to me
again."
It certainly looked forlorn and dreary enough to him by the time he
reached Grey's Park, and letting himself quietly in, he crept
noiselessly up to his bed, from which he did not rise until late the
next morning, when his Aunt Lucy came herself to call him, and told him
his grandfather was dead.
CHAPTER XI.
AT THE OLD MAN'S BEDSIDE.
When the word "murderer!" dropped from Burton Jerrold's lips, his father
started as if a bullet had pierced his heart, and the hot blood surged
up into his face, as he said:
"Oh, my son, my son, that you should be the first to call me by a name
which even Hannah has never spoken, and she has known it all the time.
She saw me do the deed; she helped me bury it. Poor Hannah!"
"You!" and Burton turned fiercely upon his sister, who stood like a
block of marble and almost as colorless. "You helped. Then you were an
accessory to the crime, and never spoke, never told! No wonder your hair
turned white before its time!"
"Brother! brother!" Hannah cried, as she threw up her hands in an
anguish of entreaty.
Pages:
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150