Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair. ‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily. ’ ‘What of your grandfather?’ Her lips parted in surprise. It was approached from the street by a flight of broad stone steps, leading to a ponderous door, plated with iron, and secured on the inner side by huge bolts, and a lock, with wards of a prodigious size. She thought of how tired she was, how exhausted, how hungry.
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