Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard below. At this terrible juncture, Jack maintained his composure,—a smile played upon his face before the cap was drawn over it,—and the last words he uttered were, "My poor mother! I shall soon join her!" The rope was then adjusted, and the cart began to move. As this had been Mrs. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers.
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