Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. The man’s passion was infectious. "I believe he's gone," he said, returning to Jonathan. So many distresses— so many joys coming at the same time are too much for me. A moment afterwards, the door was closed and bolted, and the carpenter found himself alone.
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