" "I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs. " "Nonsense!" cried Wood; "while there's life there's hope. CHAPTER XI. ” “Of how beautiful my children would be?” He finished her sentence. Alice was going to be Mrs. Here, without a glimpse of daylight; visited by no one except Austin at stated intervals, who neither answered a question nor addressed a word to him; fed upon the worst diet, literally mouldy bread and ditch-water; surrounded by stone walls; with a flagged floor for his pillow, and without so much as a blanket to protect him from the death-like cold that pierced his frame,—Jack's stout heart was subdued, and he fell into the deepest dejection, ardently longing for the time when even a violent death should terminate his sufferings. A post-chaise seen in the road first alarmed us. He dropped the key on the counterpane. The atmosphere was 46 strained and deathly quiet at the dining room table. “Why, it’s David!” he exclaimed.
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