His own remorse
and his parents' tears could be of no avail. Agonizing as it would be
to their feelings, they felt that they must go and see their son
before he should die.
One morning, a gray-headed man, and an aged and infirm woman, were
seen walking along, with faltering footsteps, through the street which
led to the prison. It was the heart-broken father and mother of this
unnatural child. When they came in sight of the gloomy granite walls
and iron-grated windows of this dreary abode, they could hardly
proceed, so overwhelming were the feelings which pressed upon their
minds. When arrived at the door of the prison, the aged father,
supporting upon his arm the weeping and almost fainting mother, told
the jailer who they were, and requested permission to see their son.
Even the jailer, accustomed as he was to scenes of suffering, could
not witness this exhibition of parental grief without being moved to
tears. He led the parents through the stone galleries of the prison,
till they came to the iron door of the cell in which their son was
confined. As he turned the key with all his strength, the heavy bolt
flew back, and he opened the door of the cell. Oh, what a sight for a
father and a mother to gaze upon! There was just enough light in this
gloomy abode to show them their son, sitting in the corner on the
stone floor, pale and emaciated, and loaded with chains. The moment
the father beheld the pallid features of his long-absent son, he
raised his hands in the agony of his feelings, and fell fainting at
his feet.
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