“‘I cannot—I will not deceive you, Adam,’ replied Mr Hylton, looking aside and with a profound sigh. ‘My solemn duty is to prepare you for death! But—‘ “‘Ah!’ said he, with a desperate air, ‘to be hanged like a vile dog!—and every one cursing me, who am all the while innocent! and no burial service to be said over my poor body!—never—_never_ to be buried!’ With a dismal groan he sunk back, and would have fallen from the bench, but for Mr. Hylton’s stepping forward. ‘Sir—sir,’ said Ayliffe presently, glaring with sudden wildness at Mr Hylton, ‘did you see the man at the door with the blunderbuss? There he stands! all day! all night! but never comes in!—never speaks!—Would that he would put it to my head, and finish me in a moment!’ “‘Adam! Adam! what awful language is this that I hear?’ said Mr Hylton, sternly. ‘Is this the way that you have spoken to your pious and venerable father?’ “‘No! no! no! sir!‘—he pressed his hand to his forehead—‘but my poor head wanders! I—I am better now! I seem just to have come out of a dream. But never should I dream thus, if you would ever stay with me—till—all is over!’ “Feeling it quite impossible to ask the miserable convict such questions as Mr Hylton had wished, he resolved not to make the attempt, but to do it as prudently and as early as might be, through old Ayliffe, or the chaplain or governor of the gaol. He was just about to leave, and was considering in what terms he could the most effectually address himself to Ayliffe, when, without any summons having issued from within, the door was unlocked, and the turnkey, thrusting in his head, said,— “‘I say, my man, here’s the woman come with thy child, that thou’st been asking for. They’ll come in when the gentleman goes.’ “Ayliffe started up from his seat with an eager motion towards the door, but was suddenly jerked down again, having forgotten in his momentary ecstasy that his irons were attached to a staple in the floor. “‘Come, come, my man,’ said the turnkey, sternly, ‘thou must be a bit quieter, I can tell thee, if this child is to come to thee.’ “‘Give me the lad! give me the lad! give me the lad!’ said Ayliffe, in a hoarse whisper, his eyes straining towards the approaching figure of the good woman, who, with a very sorrowful and apprehensive look, now came in sight of the condemned man. “‘Lord bless thee, Adam Ayliffe!’ she began, bursting into tears, ‘Lord love thee and protect thee, Adam!’ “‘Give me the lad!—show me the lad!’ he continued, gazing intently at her, while she tremblingly pushed aside her cloak; and behold there lay, simply and decently clad, his little boy, awake, and gazing, apparently apprehensively, at the strange wild figure whose arms were extended to receive it!