"Do they treat you ill?" asked her son. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered. ‘Exactement. Lots of us are like that. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire.
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