After the first violent outbreak of grief had in some degree subsided, Thames addressed him. There was a recurrence of fever, but nothing alarming. As his death was by no means what Jonathan desired, he resolved to remove him to a more airy ward, and afford him such slight comforts as might tend to his restoration, or at least keep him alive until the period of execution. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. Through all he said ran one quality that pleased her—the quality of a man who feels that things can be done, that one need not wait for the world to push one before one moved. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles.
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