A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. " "'Zounds! Captain, I shall get my death of cold. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. ’ ‘But me orders, sir? Are we to—’ ‘Gad, but that’s her,’ interrupted Roding suddenly. She was the consummate mother, even when extremely tired, she missed nothing. Jackson?" said Wood, significantly. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I. I tried it myself, Sir. You think you love this other man! No doubt you do love him. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor.
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