“It couldn’t be. " But she did not complete the thought aloud. Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window. In fact he was thinking of other things. "Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess. On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying. Give me my pistol and my dagger. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them.
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