“You see, I will take your arm. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. ‘That is good,’ she said with satisfaction, ‘for I was compelled on Saturday to abandon the chase. Ask your own conscience. At this terrible juncture, Jack maintained his composure,—a smile played upon his face before the cap was drawn over it,—and the last words he uttered were, "My poor mother! I shall soon join her!" The rope was then adjusted, and the cart began to move. “I won’t pretend,” he said, “that this is an accident.
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