Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms. " "He'll scarcely need a plaister," replied Mrs. ‘And if he is dead I know not. Well, I don't think they'll any of 'em nab him, that's one comfort. "By all means," rejoined Quilt. ” The irrepressible smile curved Anna’s lips.
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