" Her son complied, and sat down upon the patch-work coverlet beside her. And, though neither peace nor innocence can be restored to my bosom; though tears cannot blot out my offences, nor sorrow drown my shame; yet, knowing that my penitence is sincere, I do not despair that my transgressions may be forgiven. By this time, the churchyard was crowded with spectators, some of whom dispersed in different directions in quest of the other robber. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. The terror faded from her eyes. “Does he live here?” he asked her presently.
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