Wood cut him short by stating his intention of crossing the river as soon as possible in order to avoid the storm. We went our ways. “Your great success has been my joy, our joy as well as yours. "In this pit," he added, pointing to the chasm below, "your brother is buried. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. Wood; "to be sure you are! I wonder how you dare show your face in this house, hussy!" "I thought you sent for me, Ma'am," replied the widow, humbly.
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