“It is _not_ Jack's voice,” rejoined Mrs. Sheppard. “I am not to be deceived. The knife is at my breast. Stir a foot, and I strike.” “Oh Heavens!” cried Jack, driven to his wits' end. “Mother--dear mother! Once again, I beseech you to listen to me. I am come to rescue you from Wild's violence. I must break open the door. Hold your hand for a moment.” “You have heard my fixed determination, villain,” cried Mrs. Sheppard. “I know my life is valuable to you, or you would not spare it. But I will disappoint you. Get you gone. Your purposes are defeated.” “Footsteps are approaching,” cried Thames. “Heed her not. It is but a wild threat.” “I know not how to act,” exclaimed Jack, almost driven to desperation. “I hear you plotting with your wicked associates,” cried Mrs. Sheppard. “I have baffled you.” “Force the door,” said Thames, “or you will be too late.” “Better she die by her own hand, than by that monster's,” cried Jack, brandishing the bar. “Mother, I come to you.” With this, he struck the door a heavy blow. He listened. There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within. “I have killed her,” exclaimed Jack, dropping the bar,--“by your advice, Thames. Oh God! pardon me.” “Do not delay,” cried Thames. “She may yet be saved. I am too weak to aid you.” Jack again seized the bar, and, dashing it furiously against the door, speedily burst it open. The unfortunate woman was stretched upon the floor, with a bloody knife in her hand. “Mother!” cried Jack, springing towards her. “Jack!” she cried, raising her head. “Is it you?” “It is,” replied her son, “Oh! why would you not listen to me?” “I was distracted,” replied Mrs. Sheppard, faintly. “I have killed you,” cried Jack, endeavouring to staunch the effusion of blood from her breast. “Forgive--forgive me!” “I have nothing to forgive,” replied Mrs. Sheppard. “I alone am to blame.” “Can I not carry you where you can obtain help?” cried Jack in a agony of distress. “It is useless,” replied Mrs. Sheppard: “nothing can save me. I die happy--quite happy in beholding you. Do not remain with me. You may fall into the hands of your enemy. Fly! fly!” “Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself,” cried Jack, in an agony of tears. “You have always been, far dearer to me than myself,” replied Mrs. Sheppard. “But I have one last request to make. Let me lie in Willesden churchyard.” “You shall--you shall,” answered Jack. “We shall meet again ere long, my son,” cried Mrs. Sheppard, fixing her glazing eyes upon him. “Oh God! she is dying,” exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion. “Forgive me--oh, forgive me!” “Forgive you--bless you!” she gasped. A cold shiver ran through her frame, and her gentle spirit passed away for ever. “Oh, God! that I might die too,” cried Jack, falling on his knees beside her. After the first violent outbreak of grief had in some degree subsided, Thames addressed him.