It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. ‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. Straw and other combustibles being collected, were placed in the middle of the audiencechamber. Aware of the cunning and desperate characters of the persons with whom she would have to deal,—aware, also, that she was in a quarter where no laws could be appealed to, nor assistance obtained, she felt the absolute necessity of caution.
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