er's bosom.

Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the
stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother.

At length, she suddenly started to her feet; and before Winifred could
prevent her, staggered up to Thames.

"When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which
burnt with an insane gleam, upon him.

"On Friday," he replied.

"Friday!" echoed Mrs. Sheppard; "and to-day is Monday. He has three days
to live. Only three days. Three short days. Horrible!"

"Poor soul! her senses are going again," said Mr. Wood, terrified by
the wildness of her looks. "I was afraid it would be so."

"Only three days," reiterated the widow, "three short short days,--and
then all is over. Jonathan's wicked threat is fulfilled at last. The
gallows is in view--I see it with all its hideous apparatus!--ough!" and
shuddering violently, she placed her hands before her, as if to exclude
some frightful vision from her sight.

"Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone.

"Do not despair!" echoed Mrs. Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears
of those who listened to it like a razor,--"Do not despair! And who or
what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes
are dry,--suffered till my heart is broken,--prayed till the voice of
prayer is dumb,--and all of no avail. He will be hanged--hanged--hanged.
Ha! ha! What have I left but despair and madness? Promise me one thing,
Mr. Wood," she continued, with a sudden change of tone, and convulsively
clutching the carpenter's arm, "promise it me."

"Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?"

"Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard. There is a small
yew-tree west of the church. Beneath that tree let us lie. In one grave,
mind. Do you promise to do this?"

"Solemnly," rejoined the carpenter.

"Enough," said the widow, gratefully. "I must see him to-night."

"Impossible, dear Mrs. Sheppard," said Thames. "To-morrow I will take
you to him."

"To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I
feel it will. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. I
must bless him before I die. I have strength enough to drag myself
there, and I do not want to return."

"Be pacified, sweet soul," said Wood, looking meaningly at Thames; "you
_shall_ go, and I will accompany you."

"A mother's blessing on you," replied Mrs. Sheppard, fervently. "And
now," she added, with somewh