” John looked at her sympathetically. Her thin fingers were armed with nails as long as the talons of a bird. In fact, one of them was downright sceptical. You don’t want to miss the sport. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END.
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