In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. Return, I implore of you, to your master,—to Mr. "As you please, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan, with affected indifference; "but I'm not going to hunt the deer for another to eat the ven'son, depend on 't. ” “For what?” Lucy asked. '" "Slave?" echoed Jack. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. She seemed tense when not playing, he noted, more so than she had during the first two pieces. “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. She would never again be lonely. She walked straight across to the wardrobe and opened it. 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. “You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. You have only to look resolute and proceed upon your way. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again.
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