“Then why do you weep?”

“Not for that.”

“For what then?”

“For you—oh, dear, dear! How shall I tell it? They are going to—to—” She sat down on the chair, and sobb’d in her apron.

“What is’t they are going to do?”

“To—to—h-hang you.”

“The devil! When?”

“Tut-tut-to-morrow mo-horning!”

I went suddenly very cold all over. There was silence for a moment, and then I heard the noise of some one dropping a plank in the courtyard below.

“What’s that?”