There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground. 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. To the poor carpenter it seemed an endless distance.
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