He grabbed her legs and threw the covers from the bed. Now Owen Wood had one fair child, Unlike her mother, meek and mild; Her love the draper strove to gain, But she repaid him with disdain. Uttering a few inarticulate ejaculations,—for he was completely out of breath,— the fugitive placed a bundle in the arms of the carpenter, and, regardless of the consternation he excited in the breast of that personage, who was almost stupified with astonishment, he began to divest himself of a heavy horseman's cloak, which he threw over Wood's shoulder, and, drawing his sword, seemed to listen intently for the approach of his pursuers. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. ‘Certainly this is true,’ she managed.
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