"Hush!" she said. It doesn’t matter. 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. The tail-ender of this little caravan, he had been rather out of it. “You!” she exclaimed. Hers were less noble, yet stately. ‘But with more courage in her little finger than in many another female’s entire body. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. "She has, she has," said Jack, in a broken voice. Things now began to wear so serious a aspect that a messenger was secretly despatched to the Savoy for troops, and in half an hour a regiment of the guards arrived, who by dint of great exertion succeeded in partially dispersing the tumultuous assemblage. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone.
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