The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 237: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

220 REYNOLDS’ WORKS r platform of death. He mounted, he stood upon the drop, the noose was placed around his neck, the white nightcap was drawn over his countenance, the knell was tolling deep and ominous upon his ear. Then from his lips rang forth a pealing cry of agony. He started into fullest waketulness; the ery which again in reality he had sent forth was still ringing through the room, but the horrible phantasmagoria of the scaffold and the crowd had passed away. It was morning; the light was glimmering in at the casement. Thank Heaven, it was morning! Thus passed Edmund’s first night after he had become a murderer. Oh, how was he to endure the approach of a second? How to look forward through the vista of coming years, and to know that they must have as many nights as days? CONNIE NO KS