"Are you hurt, Thames?" asked Jack, anxiously. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. She was to be a Corsair’s Bride. “And besides,” said Ann Veronica, sweeping that aspect aside, “what could I do? A boy sails out into a trade or profession.
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