"Are you a man," said the agonized woman, "or iron like this"--and she
beat against the railing passionately--"that you will not let a mother
kiss her son when he is dying?"
"Nay, nay, ma'am; it's not so bad as that," said the warder,
good-naturedly; "see, he's a-coming round agen all right. I've seen a
many took like that. In half a minute he'll be himself again. It's his
trouble as does it, bless you. If you'll take my advice, you'll spare
both your son and yourself the pain of parting, and leave him as he is.
I'd go bail for it, it's just a faint, that's all."
"Let me kiss him once," implored the unhappy woman. "Oh, man, if you
have ever known a mothers love, let me kiss him once! Here is a
five-pound note--take it, and leave me still your debtor--but one kiss."
"Nay, ma'am, I can't take your money; of which, as I couldn't help
hearing you say, you have not got too much to spare. But you shall kiss
your bonnie boy, and welcome;" and with that the stout warder took the
unconscious lad up in his arms, and bore him within the passage; and
his, mother put her lips between the bars and pressed them to his
forehead once, twice, thrice.
"There, there, ma'am; that will do," muttered the man, impatiently; "and
even that is as much as my place is worth.
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