“Lady Trafford would not have thus condemned me!” cried Thames. “Away with him!” exclaimed Sir Rowland, impatiently. “Take the prisoners below, Nab,” said Jonathan, addressing the dwarfish Jew; “I'll join you in an instant.” The bearded miscreant seized Jack by the waist, and Thames by the nape of the neck, and marched off, like the ogre in the fairy tale, with a boy under each arm, while Charcam brought upt the rear. CHAPTER X. MOTHER AND SON. They had scarcely been gone a moment, when a confused noise was heard without, and Charcam re-entered the room, with a countenance of the utmost bewilderment and alarm. “What's the matter with the man?” demanded Wild. “Her ladyship--” faltered the attendant. “What of her?” cried the knight. “Is she returned!” “Y--e--s, Sir Rowland,” stammered Charcam. “The devil!” ejaculated Jonathan. “Here's a cross-bite.” “But that's not all, your honour,” continued Charcam; “Mrs. Norris says she's dying.” “Dying!” echoed the knight. “Dying, Sir Rowland. She was taken dreadfully ill on the road, with spasms and short breath, and swoonings,--worse than ever she was before. And Mrs. Norris was so frightened that she ordered the postboys to drive back as fast as they could. She never expected to get her ladyship home alive.” “My God!” cried Trenchard, stunned by the intelligence, “I have killed her.” “No doubt,” rejoined Wild, with a sneer; “but don't let all the world know it.” “They're lifting her out of the carriage,” interposed Charcam; “will it please your honour to send for some advice and the chaplain?” “Fly for both,” returned Sir Rowland, in a tone of bitter anguish. “Stay!” interposed Jonathan. “Where are the boys?” “In the hall.” “Her ladyship will pass through it?” “Of course; there's no other way.” “Then, bring them into this room, the first thing--quick! They must not meet, Sir Rowland,” he added, as Charcam hastened to obey his instructions. “Heaven has decreed it otherwise,” replied the knight, dejectedly. “I yield to fate.” “Yield to nothing,” returned Wild, trying to re-assure him; “above all, when your designs prosper. Man's fate is in his own hands. You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours. Cast off this weakness. The next hour makes, or mars you for ever. Go to your sister, and do not quit her till all is over. Leave the rest to me.” Sir Rowland moved irresolutely towards the door, but recoiled before a sad spectacle. This was his sister, evidently in the last extremity. Borne in the arms of a couple of assistants, and preceded by Mrs. Norris, wringing her hands and wepping, the unfortunate lady was placed upon a couch. At the same time, Charcam, who seemed perfectly distracted by the recent occurrences, dragged in Thames, leaving Jack Sheppard outside in the custody of the dwarfish Jew. “Hell's curses!” muttered Jonathan between his teeth; “that fool will ruin all. Take him away,” he added, striding up to Charcam. “Let him remain,” interposed Trenchard.