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. Ireton and his friends to taste it. "Who is it?" "He didn't give his name, Sir," replied the maid; "but he's a young gentleman. The doctor paced the room half a dozen times. A male voice, vibrant with terror, yelled out hoarsely.
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