‘I want a word with you, my lad. "Where are you?" "Here," replied Mrs. Next to the executioner stood his wife—the former Mrs. ’ She eyed him, all her uncertainty surfacing. 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. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. " And then he added, in an under tone, "Conceal yourself outside, and be within call.
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