"I have saved the executioner a labour, by cutting his throat," replied Blueskin. ‘Wait! At least tell me where I can find you. Oh, I grew fond of you as the years went by. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. "Do you not know me, father?" said the young man, advancing towards him, and warmly grasping his hand. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. ‘And if he is dead I know not.
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