216 “Please, get dressed. I believe he’s divorced. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. The guards, horse and foot, and constables formed a wide circle round it to keep off the mob. Hours were spent in preparation for the event. He kissed her once on the lips with a passion of which, during all their days of married life, he had given no sign. "Who's that queer cove in the full-bottomed wig?" "Attend to me, sirrah," rejoined Wild, sternly. ” “Only you won’t let me live. Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears. On one side of the chapel there was a large grated window, but, as it looked upon the interior of the jail, Jack preferred following the course he had originally decided upon to making any attempt in this quarter. "Enough!" exclaimed Wild, triumphantly. The detective rapidly sketched the appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from under the table.
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