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Wood became sensible that he was not alone. Look at the cock’s feathers, look at the competition there is everywhere, except among humans. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. "My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. "Where is he?" asked Jonathan. Returning to the audience-chamber in a by-no-means enviable state of mind, he commanded the Jew to throw the body of Thames into the Well Hole. Upon what this instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its insistence. Her mind wandered back to that fateful day.
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