CHAPTER XXXII. His conscience never told him to go back and take his punishment; it tortured him only in regard to the deed itself. And with a hideous expression of pain, he fainted. "Poor little creature!" he muttered, pressing it tenderly to his breast, as he grasped the rope and clambered up to the window: "if thou hast, indeed, lost both thy parents, as that terrible man said just now, thou art not wholly friendless and deserted, for I myself will be a father to thee! And in memory of this dreadful night, and the death from which I have, been the means of preserving thee, thou shalt bear the name of THAMES DARRELL. "My little Hoddy! You used to love me; and I have always loved you. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. ” Sir John smiled. .
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