Confounded by her appearance and exclamation, he tossed it away, and stood up with his open hands held out before him.

“What’s come to you, Liz? Can you think I would strike at you with a knife?”

“No, father, no; you would never hurt me.”

“What should I hurt?”

“Nothing, dear father. On my knees, I am certain, in my heart and soul I am certain, nothing! But it was too dreadful to bear; for it looked⁠—” her hands covering her face again, “O it looked⁠—”

“What did it look like?”

The recollection of his murderous figure, combining with her trial of last night, and her trial of the morning, caused her to drop at his feet, without having answered.