Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been.

Her eyes glistened in the darkness--for light was only admitted through a small grated window--like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul.

A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat.

Her arms and feet were uncovered, and of almost skeleton thinness.

Her features were meagre, and ghastly white, and had the fixed and horrible stamp of insanity.