" Figg turned aside to hide the tears that started to his eyes,—for the stout prizefighter, with a man's courage, had a woman's heart,—and the procession again set forward. Here, without a glimpse of daylight; visited by no one except Austin at stated intervals, who neither answered a question nor addressed a word to him; fed upon the worst diet, literally mouldy bread and ditch-water; surrounded by stone walls; with a flagged floor for his pillow, and without so much as a blanket to protect him from the death-like cold that pierced his frame,—Jack's stout heart was subdued, and he fell into the deepest dejection, ardently longing for the time when even a violent death should terminate his sufferings. The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below. I have now settled my affairs, and made every preparation for my departure to France, where I shall spend the remainder of my days. As they're so fond of each other's society they shan't part company even on that occasion, but shall swing from the same tree. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. She looked at the suitcase sadly and stashed it underneath her bed.
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