She was no longer a confederate in that. At the farther end of the Lodge, the floor was raised to the height of a couple of steps; whence the whole place, with the exception of the remotest corner of the angle before-mentioned, could be commanded at a single glance. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. There was nothing in the pockets of the coat. And when they came to the gallows, Jack leaped out of the cart, and the hangman tied up Jonathan instead—ha! ha! How the mob shouted and huzzaed—and I shouted too—ha! ha! ha!" "Mother!" cried Jack, unable to endure this agonizing scene longer. An unhappy little sigh escaped her.
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