" Further remonstrance, however, was cut short by the sudden entrance of Mrs. One hour later she had gone back to the mission—without the salt. ‘I am glad it is you, because you can help me. With Bess's assistance he then climbed up to the window, which, as has just been stated, was secured by iron bars of great thickness crossed by a stout beam of oak. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. “Remember,” he said, “you are not by any means a dying man now, but you’ll never pull through if you don’t husband your strength. Mistresses neither deserve consideration nor commiseration. Soup would help you feel better, soup and hot tea. I have healed and I am still your wife!\" She looked at him desperately, his eyes illuminated by firelight.
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