Wood," said she, in the deep, hoarse accents of consumption; "and may God Almighty bless and reward you for your kindness! You were always the best of masters to my poor husband; and now you've proved the best of friends to his widow and orphan boy. And yet, the doctor recalled an expression of the girl's: that it was not a dissipated face, only troubled. . Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open. 82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. Taking his way along East Smithfield, mounting Little Tower-hill, and threading the Minories and Hounsditch, he arrived without accident or molestation, at Moorfields. Hang the wench! Roding was right. Blueskin and the Minters were dragging Wood to the pump. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. From there I plan to travel until I reach Columbia—but any lawless country will do.
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