"I was afraid it would be so." "Only three days," reiterated the widow, "three short short days,--and then all is over.

Jonathan's wicked threat is fulfilled at last.

The gallows is in view--I see it with all its hideous apparatus!--ough!" and shuddering violently, she placed her hands before her, as if to exclude some frightful vision from her sight.
"Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone.
"Do not despair!" echoed Mrs.Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,--"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone?
I have wept till my eyes are dry,--suffered till my heart is broken,--prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,--and all of no avail.

He will be hanged--hanged--hanged.
Ha! ha! What have I left but despair and madness?
Promise me one thing, Mr.Wood," she continued, with a sudden change of tone, and convulsively clutching the carpenter's arm, "promise it me." "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it ?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard.

There is a small yew-tree west of the church.