She followed the official back into his room. She knew the significance: the red corpuscle was being burnt out by the fires of alcohol. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. Yet he was in a state of hopeless bewilderment. This I know, for the Valades have taught me so, and the nuns also. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. " "I don't mind the throuble," hesitated Terence, who was really a good-hearted fellow at the bottom; "and I'd like to sarve you if I could, for you look like a gentleman's son, and that goes a great way wi' me. Already Cosette was her chosen friend.
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