his unfortunate situation
and his youth."

"Those were no excuses, Sir Morgan, twenty-four years ago."

"Woe is me, Mrs. Godber, that they were not!"

"So, so, so?" said she, chuckling with stifled laughter: "is it come to
that? so then a worm may turn again, a poor worm may turn again--when
it is trod upon. And the worm may be a snake. God sends snakes for
those that need them." Then, pointing to the armorial bearings of the
house of Walladmor emblazoned on the antique chairs, she said--"The
snake, Sir Morgan, _my_ snake. Sir Morgan Walladmor, my pretty
snake--she stung your Falcon; your Falcon, and--your Doves!"

"She did indeed!" and Sir Morgan groaned with the remembrance.

"Aye, aye. That summer night she stung--she stung! Oh!
sweet--sweet--sweet is revenge, Sir Morgan. Is it not, Sir Morgan?"

"God forbid!--God forbid!--Yet, if _that_ be sweet, you have had it."

"Aye, but not all. We are not yet come to our death-beds: and, before
then, the snake may sting again. All is not finished yet:--what think
you, Sir Morgan, will be the end? what _should_ be the end?"

"If you speak of our death-beds, Mrs. Godber,--peace, as I humbly
presume to hope, the peace of christian charity and mutual forgiveness.
Frail creatures that we are! the best will need forgiveness; the
guiltiest, I trust, who brings a contrite heart, will not ask it in
vain." Then, after a pause, he added solemnly--"You also, Mrs. Godber,
will need forgiveness."

She fixed her eyes intently upon him, at the same time slowly drawing
from her pocket two parcels. One was a packet of letters. She laid them
upon the library table; and, striking her hand upon them with emphasis,
she said--"Read those, when you will: they are letters from Captain
Donneraile and Winifred Griffiths."

Sir Morgan trembled and would have taken the letters: but at this
moment the trampling of horses was heard in the great court, upon which
the library windows looked out: it was now growing dark; and the
torches of the horsemen suddenly irradiated the room, and flashed upon
the eyes of Mrs. Godber. Sir Morgan shuddered at their expression.

She opened the other parcel; and said, with something of a commanding
tone, "Come here! come here!"

Mechanically almost he followed her to the window: she opened and
displayed a baby's frock: the light of the torches fell strong upon it,
and Sir Morgan recognized it well; for it bore in embroidered colours
the bloody hand and the ant