So he was allowed to lie there, with his head on his wife's lap, and his tortured body covered by a coat, which one of the men brought him.

His eyes closed again, and for some time he lay without the slightest motion.
The fire was gaining ground every instant, and there was yet no sign of the engine from Malsham; but Ellen Whitelaw scarcely heeded the work of destruction.

She was thinking only of the helpless stricken creature lying with his head upon her lap; thinking of him perhaps in this hour of his extremity with all the more compassion, because he had always been obnoxious to her.

She prayed for the rapid arrival of the surgeon, who must surely be able to give some relief to her husband's sufferings, she thought.

It seemed dreadful for him to be lying like this, with no attempt made to lessen his agony.