was upon her.

All the air round was so thick and dark, the people were so

passionately revengeful and fitful, the innocent were so constantly

put to death on vague suspicion and black malice, it was so

impossible to forget that many as blameless as her husband and as

dear to others as he was to her, every day shared the fate from

which he had been clutched, that her heart could not be as

lightened of its load as she felt it ought to be. The shadows of the

wintry afternoon were beginning to fall, and even now the

dreadful carts were rolling through the streets. Her mind pursued

them, looking for him among the condemned; and then she clung

closer to his real presence and trembled more.

Her father, cheering her, showed a compassionate superiority

to this woman’s weakness, which was wonderful to see. No garret,

no shoemaking, no One Hundred and Five, North Tower, now! He

had accomplished the task he had set himself, his promise was

redeemed, he had saved Charles. Let them all lean upon him.

Their housekeeping was of a very frugal kind: not only because

that was the safest way of life, involving the least offence to the

people, but because they were not rich, and Charles, throughout

his imprisonment, had had to pay heavily for his bad food, and for

his guard, and towards the living of the poorer prisoners. Partly on

Charles Dicke