The mighty concourse became for a moment still. “You know,” he went on, “this doesn’t seem to me to end anything. He backed away from her. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation.
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