" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. " "Say the word, and I'm mum," returned the executioner. Here, Peter," he added to a curly-headed lad, who was playing on one of the grassy tombs, "ask your father to step this way. If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. It is picturesquely situated beneath a tree on the high road, not far from the little hostel before mentioned, and at no great distance from the church. She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. "You are very kind," said Jack, returning the money; "but I don't require assistance. ” Lucy said, already exhausted by her friend.
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