At this terrible juncture, Jack maintained his composure,—a smile played upon his face before the cap was drawn over it,—and the last words he uttered were, "My poor mother! I shall soon join her!" The rope was then adjusted, and the cart began to move. But, not daring to confess his want of comprehension, he made a profound reverence, and retired. It was Blueskin. ‘Come, Hilary. You see to what it has brought you. Kneebone," she added, with a glance at that gentleman, which was meant to speak daggers, "will do as he pleases.
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