‘Now what?’ The guard jerked his head up the corridor. An old woman took her in. He took her there on the cold, dirty floor, his nails digging into her back, his teeth sinking into her breasts. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. The poor widow was thrown into an agony of distress on learning that a robbery had been committed, in which her son (for she could not doubt that Jack was one of the boys,) was implicated; nor was her anxiety alleviated by Mrs.
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