"Mother—dear mother!" said Jack, bursting into tears. The guineas are not for serving your mistress. Sulphurous poisons assaulted her nostrils as she threw the stone to one side of its resting place. You are my prisoner, murderer. Descending the hollow, or rather excavation,—for it was an old disused clay-pit, at the bottom of which the cottage was situated,—he speedily succeeded in arousing the ancient sibyl, and having committed Edgeworth Bess to her care, with a promise of an abundant reward in case she watched diligently over her safety, and attended to her comforts till his return,—to all which Black Mary readily agreed,—he departed with a heart lightened of half its load.
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