He removed his cocked hat and came towards her. She was quite the rage, in a small way, you know. Ruth, standing by, heard his true laughter for the first time. And, though the villain can't see his orders executed, I've no doubt some one else will. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. Sheppard heaved a deep sigh, and opened her eyes, which now looked larger, blacker, and more melancholy than ever. She sat herself upon the bed. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her. The signal of distress was evidently understood.
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