In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. ‘No doubt accompanied by the latest crim con tales. They had completed a circuit of the mansion before Roding’s frustration burst out. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. “You don’t want to go?” “No. But Bess could scarcely summon resolution enough to hazard the experiment; and it was only on Jack's urgent intreaties, and even threats, that she could be prevailed on to trust herself to the frail tenure of the rope he had prepared. I believe—I believe that I must risk it. I'll put a brace of dogs on your track, who'll soon hunt you down. What is done cannot be undone.
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