A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat. "Heaven have mercy on his soul!" ejaculated Wood. She stole a few glances at John as she stood and played the pieces. "Prisoner at the bar," thus ran the sentence, "you shall be taken to the prison from whence you came, and put into a mean room, stopped from the light; and shall there be laid on the bare ground, without any litter, straw, or other covering, and without any garment. Suspicion was in his face. She noticed that this trunk was not littered with hotel labels.
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