streets through which they must pass to reach the court; and as the gilded coach, the noisy trumpets, and the decrepit halberdiers, go by, she scowls at them from beneath her shaggy brows, and mutters her formula of defiance. She will die saying it; comforting her poor, worn, wounded heart with its smarting balm.
Will she find, when she comes before the Tribunal of Eternal decrees, that she has leaned thus upon a broken reed, or will she find her son there, free from the guilt of blood?
The Great Judge only knows.
THE BILL.
I could scarcely believe, when I came to the last word of the foregoing recital and finished it off with a flourish, as I am apt to do when I make an end of writing, that I had been snowed up a whole week. The time had hung so lightly on my hands, and the Holly-Tree, so bare at first, had borne so many berries for me, that I should have been in great doubt of the fact but for a piece of documenatry evidence that lay upon my table.
The road had been dug out of the snow, on the previous day, and the document in question was my Bill. It testified, emphatically, to my having eaten, drunk and warmed myself, and slept, among the sheltering branches of the Holly-Tree, seven days and nights. I had yesterday allowed the road twenty-four hours to improve itself, finding that I required that additional margin of time for the completion of my task. I had ordered my bill to be upon the table, and a chaise to be at the door, "at eight o'clock to-morrow evening." It was eight o'clock to-morrow evening, when I buckled up my travelling writing-desk in its leather case, paid my bin and got on my warm coats and wrappers. Of course no time now remained for my travelling on to add a frozen tear to the icicles which were doubtless hanging plentifully about the farm-house where I had first seen Angela. What I had to do, was, to get across to Liverpool by the shortest open road, there to meet my heavy baggage and embark. It was quite enough to do, and I had not an hour too much time to do it in.
