Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. No prisoner except Edgeworth Bess was placed in the same cell with him. “The wrappered life-discipline! One comes to that at last. It's never a bad day that has a good ending. He swore that I was his wife, that chance had given me to him at last. There was the stile on which Jonathan had sat, and he recollected distinctly the effect of his mocking glance— how it had hardened his heart against his mother's prayer. "He has been indefatigable in his search," continued Winifred, "and has even journeyed to Manchester.
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