Section 3. Then, her body still tense with the atoms of anger, she sat down upon the edge of the bed and rocked from side to side. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. The carte de jour was before Monsieur. There's one person in the house whom I wouldn't frighten for the world. "My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. " Figg turned aside to hide the tears that started to his eyes,—for the stout prizefighter, with a man's courage, had a woman's heart,—and the procession again set forward.
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