The popular cant would have us forbear even to look at the
history of the criminal. Hang the wretch, say they, but say nothing
about him. Why trace his progress?--what good can come out of the
knowledge of those influences and tendencies, which have made him a
criminal? Let them answer the question for themselves!
The outlaw beheld the departing cavalcade of the Colletons from the
grated window. He saw the last of all those in whose fortunes he might
be supposed to have an interest. He turned from the sight with a bitter
pang at his heart, and, to his surprise, discovered that he was not
alone in the solitude of his prison. One ministering spirit sat beside
him upon the long bench, the only article of furniture afforded to his
dungeon.
The reader has not forgotten the young woman to whose relief, from fire,
Ralph Colleton so opportunely came while making his escape from his
pursuers. We remember the resignation--the yielding weakness of her
broken spirit to the will of her destroyer.
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