"Don't you perceive, my dear Mrs. Had Gosse taken it as he escaped? What could she do? Gosse now knew that she was the daughter of Mary Remenham. A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room. Washed in light from the vestry window, she held her ground, all thought at bay, bar the steel determination long ago instilled in her by her unconventional tutor. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him. "Thank Heaven!" she gasped. " "Perhaps I read of it somewhere.
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