Her eardrums were burning with the echoes of those hideous shouts. “Hi John. ” John tried to direct the topic away from him. Sheppard," said the carpenter, advancing to meet her, and trying to look as cheerful and composed as he could; "what brings you to town, eh?— Nothing amiss, I trust?" "Nothing whatever, Sir," answered the widow. Ben had scarcely adjusted his oars, when the gleam of a lantern was seen moving towards the bank. Perhaps the Parisian atmosphere had affected him. They had as many designations as grades. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips.
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