"I have killed you," cried Jack, endeavouring to staunch the effusion of blood from her breast. "Forgive—forgive me!"
"I have nothing to forgive," replied Mrs. Sheppard. "I alone am to blame."
"Can I not carry you where you can obtain help?" cried Jack in a agony of distress.
"It is useless," replied Mrs. Sheppard: "nothing can save me. I die happy—quite happy in beholding you. Do not remain with me. You may fall into the hands of your enemy. Fly! fly!"
"Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears.
"You have always been, far dearer to me than myself," replied Mrs. Sheppard. "But I have one last request to make. Let me lie in Willesden churchyard."
"You shall—you shall," answered Jack.
"We shall meet again ere long, my son," cried Mrs. Sheppard, fixing her glazing eyes upon him.
"Oh God! she is dying," exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion. "Forgive me—oh, forgive me!"
"Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped.