A hollow feeling opened up inside her, and she felt her heartbeat quicken. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. “How’s Mrs. Sheppard," cried the thief-taker, as he slipped a pair of handcuffs over Jack's wrists, "for the help you have given us in capturing your son. Sheppard," cried the carpenter's wife bitterly; "and, I repeat, Bedlam's too good for her.
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