The features were pale as marble; calm in their expression, and like those of one wrapped in placid slumber.

The long fair hair hung over the side of the board.

It was a sad and touching sight.
"Why, as I am a living man, it is the grocer's daughter, Amabel,--somewhile Countess of Rochester!" exclaimed Chowles.
"It is, it is!" cried the earl, suddenly rushing from behind a building where he had hitherto remained concealed.

"Whither are you about to take her?
Set her down--set her down." "Hinder them not, my lord," vociferated another person, also appearing on the scene with equal suddenness.

"Place her in the cart," cried Solomon Eagle--for he it was--to the bearers.