“What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. 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. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. "Halloa, widow!" shouted a rough voice from below, "where the devil are you?" Mrs. Sheppard," said Wood in a soothing tone.
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