His face was white. "Devil!" cried the widow, catching his arm, and gazing with frantic eagerness in his face, "how many years will you give my son before you execute your terrible threat?" "NINE!" answered Jonathan sternly. Placing a piece of money in Morgan's hands, he hurried out of the churchyard. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. But kill me rather than commit this outrage. One would think I had agreed to her going. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. He passed, and came loitering back and stood beside her, silently looking into her face. And when I have steeped him to the lips in vice and depravity; when I have led him to the commission of every crime; when there is neither retreat nor advance for him; when he has plundered his benefactor, and broken the heart of his mother—then—but not till then, I will consign him to the fate to which I consigned his father. “Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness.
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