I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. There was a pleasant numbness in the bottle; that's why I went to it. Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his own, and commenced a recital of his adventures, which may be briefly told.
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