"About introducing a young gentleman to you," replied Mole, who overheard every word, but who was too overjoyed with recent events to take umbrage at any thing now.
"Excuse me just now, Mr. Mole," replied the lady, "I--I am dressing."
"Humph!"
Young Jack was bursting with impatience to push him aside and rush into his mother"s arms.
But Mr. Mole restrained him.
"The young gentleman I would introduce, my dear Mrs, Harkaway, brings us news of our young Jack."
"Hah!"
A cry of joy, delight, anxiety, fear, hope, all commingled, burst from the mother of our young hero.
The door was opened, and Mrs. Harkaway stood upon the threshold.
She stared confusedly at the two boys.
"Mother!"
"Jack!"
No more.
In a moment they were locked in each other"s arms.
"Oh, Jack, Jack!" exclaimed the astonished mother. "Where have you been? Now that you are come back, I may tell you I feared I should never see you again."
Jack"s eyes filled with tears.
He kissed her tenderly and held out his hand to Harry.
"Here, mother dear," he said; "there is a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft to keep watch over the life of poor Jack--and Harry is the cherub,"
"Hush! Jack."
"I shan"t hush, Harry; you know that it"s true. You are the cherub, and you know it. Why, mother, now that it"s all over, and I am here, I must tell you that I never should have been here if it hadn"t been for Harry."
"Bless you, Harry," said Mrs. Harkaway, squeezing his hand.
Just then, Mr. Mole, who had felt a tingling sensation at the nose, and fearing that he was about to disgrace his manly reputation by a tear, had retired, came stumping back with some news.
"Here comes Jack--old Jack, I mean. Here"s luck for us."
A well-known footstep was heard, and Jack Harkaway entered the room.
As his eye fell upon Harry Girdwood, he started back, and the colour forsook his cheek.
Then he caught sight of his boy, and he gave a cry of delight as he held open his arms.
Young Jack flew to him
"Come here, Harry," cried Harkaway; "here, my boy--for you are a second son to me."
And the two boys were soon locked in his arms.
For some minutes not a word was spoken.
His heart was too full for speech, but whilst they were thus engaged-- engrossed by their own happiness--a deep sound was heard.
A dismal, moaning sound.
A bell that sounded like a distant funeral knell.
What was it?
Harkaway started up at the mournful sound.
"Hark!" he exclaimed. "Do you hear that?"
"Yes."
"What is it?"
"An execution."
"Where?"
"At the prison."
"Of whom?"
"The brigands."
"The villains have earned their fates right well."
"Yes, yes," exclaimed Jack Harkaway, hurriedly; "but this execution must not take place, though Tomaso was shot yesterday."
"Tomaso, the brigand," cried young Jack, "then why not the rest of the brigands."
"Why? Because it is unjust, for the men condemned to suffer death have been sentenced for murdering you, my own boys."
As the word was uttered, there was a loud commotion, and Theodora burst into the room.
She gave a cry on seeing the two boys, and rushed up joyfully to Harry Girdwood.
"Thank Heaven you are safe," she said hysterically; "but my own brave boy, do you hear? Do you know that that bell sounds the death-knell of men who, bad and wicked as they are, have been wrongfully condemned?"