CHAPTER IV. IN WHICH MRS. CATHERINE BECOMES AN HONEST WOMAN AGAIN.



In this woeful plight, moneyless, wifeless, horseless, corporalless,
with a gag in his mouth and a rope round his body, are we compelled
to leave the gallant Galgenstein, until his friends and the progress
of this history shall deliver him from his durance. Mr. Brock's
adventures on the Captain's horse must likewise be pretermitted; for
it is our business to follow Mrs. Catherine through the window by
which she made her escape, and among the various chances that befell
her.

She had one cause to congratulate herself,--that she had not her
baby at her back; for the infant was safely housed under the care of
a nurse, to whom the Captain was answerable. Beyond this her
prospects were but dismal: no home to fly to, but a few shillings
in her pocket, and a whole heap of injuries and dark revengeful
thoughts in her bosom: it was a sad task to her to look either
backwards or forwards. Whither was she to fly? How to live? What
good chance was to befriend her? There was an angel watching over
the steps of Mrs. Cat--not a good one, I think, but one of those
from that unnameable place, who have their many subjects here on
earth, and often are pleased to extricate them from worse
perplexities.

Mrs. Cat, now, had not committed murder, but as bad as murder; and
as she felt not the smallest repentance in her heart--as she had, in