I was mean to him. Don’t imagine that. “We’ll go together. But shortly this movement ceased. At this terrible juncture, Jack maintained his composure,—a smile played upon his face before the cap was drawn over it,—and the last words he uttered were, "My poor mother! I shall soon join her!" The rope was then adjusted, and the cart began to move. Still, it was rather terrible to suspect that one had fallen from grace, but nevertheless the thing was possible. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door.
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