"Heaven grant you may have been wrongly informed with respect to Thames!" exclaimed Winifred; "but, I beseech you, on no account to mention what you have told me to my poor father. It had evidently seen better days before being relegated to the ministrations of a hackney coachman, one who evidently served the less affluent inhabitants of London. For all that she was of exceptional intellectual enterprise, she had never yet considered these things with unaverted eyes. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. A question next arose whether the prisoner could be executed under the existing warrant,—some inclining to one opinion, some to another. She laid her hand upon his arm. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been.
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