" "Not now—not now!" she returned, with a shudder. Feeling rather exhausted, it occurred to him that possibly some provisions might have been left by the constable; and, looking about, he perceived a pitcher of water and a small brown loaf on the floor. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. “I thank you for your advice,” she said. But we’ve got the brains to get over that, and tongues in our heads to talk to each other. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us. A cold shiver came over her. Wood, meanwhile, had summoned his men-servants, and having armed them with such weapons as could be found, they proceeded to the garden, where the first object they encountered was Thames Darrell, extended on the ground, and weltering in his blood.
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