The cause of this uproar was soon manifest. "As you please, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan, with affected indifference; "but I'm not going to hunt the deer for another to eat the ven'son, depend on 't. The room seemed a vacuum. "Well, who'd have thought of Shotbolt beating us all in this way!" said Ireton. Moments, indeed! We like each other fresh and fresh. Just as the attendants were preparing to lower the corpse into the earth, Jack fell on his knees beside the coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, reproaching himself with the murder of his mother, and invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head.
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