"Yes; and your husband, your foolish husband, says that he'll be able to
make his improvement in the duplex, now that you'll be hanged."

"He does, does he?" replied Mrs Forster, catching her breath, and
grinding her teeth as she jumped off the bed.

"Now, my dear Mrs Forster, it's no use minding what they say; all you
have to do is to escape as soon as possible; the magistrate's warrant
may arrive this minute, and then it will be too late; so come down at
once:--how lucky that you have escaped! it must be a dreadful thing to
be hanged!"

This last remark, always brought forward by Miss Dragwell when she had a
point to carry, induced Mrs Forster to hasten downstairs to the
post-chaise, which she found already occupied by Mr Ramsden's servant.
As soon as she entered, it was driven off with speed in the direction
already communicated to the post-boy.

We shall leave the town of Overton to recover its quiet,--for such a
bustle had not occurred for many years,--and Miss Dragwell to exult in
the success of her plot, while we follow Mrs Forster to her new
quarters.

The chaise rattled on,--Mr Ramsden's servant crouching in a corner, as
far as possible from Mrs Forster, evidently about as well pleased with
his company as one would be in a pitfall with a tiger. At last it
stopped at the door of the lunatic asylum, and the post-boy dismounting
from his reeking horses, pulled violently at a large bell, which
answered with a most lugubrious tolling, and struck awe into the breast