It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. The stranger started at the touch, and spoke. At this terrible juncture, Jack maintained his composure,—a smile played upon his face before the cap was drawn over it,—and the last words he uttered were, "My poor mother! I shall soon join her!" The rope was then adjusted, and the cart began to move. McClintock was in a gay mood at dinner that night; but he did not see fit to give these children the true reason.
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