"Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. " "You are an angel, I say," continued the poor maniac; "and my Jack would have been like you, if he had lived. But she threw a verbal bombshell into the spinsters' camp. Everything was done in a genteel and ordinary way, but on the other hand, there was no lingering. His gaze remained steady on the old dame’s face, as he thought about it. First the passage to be negotiated. This intelligence, which she instantly communicated to the carpenter, drove him almost frantic.
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