On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. To have sprung this upon them to-night would have been worth a thousand pounds. But this calm was more awful than the previous roaring of the blast.
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This video was uploaded to southwestbyways.info on 21-09-2024 01:47:21
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