The
ebullition of passion, however, lasted not long, and the outlaw himself,
a moment after, seemed conscious of its injustice.
"I do you wrong, Dillon; but on this subject I will have no one speak. I
can not be the man you would have me; I have been schooled otherwise. My
mother has taught me a different lesson; her teachings have doomed me,
and these enjoyments are now all beyond my hope."
"Your mother?" was the response of Dillon, in unaffected astonishment.
"Ay, man--my mother! Is there anything wonderful in that? She taught me
the love of evil with her milk--she sang it in lullabies over my
cradle--she gave it me in the playthings of my boyhood; her schoolings
have made me the morbid, the fierce criminal, the wilful, vexing spirit,
from whose association all the gentler virtues must always desire to
fly. If, in the doom which may finish my life of doom, I have any one
person to accuse of all, that person is--my mother!"
"Is this possible? Can it be true? It is strange--very strange!"
"It is not strange; we see it every day--in almost every family.
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