“It’s the Widow Horner’s boy!” he heard one woman shrilly call out; and somehow Dick felt a flush of pride at realizing that on this occasion at least he need experience no sense of shame at being placed in the spot-light.
All reached the ground in safety, and were quickly surrounded by the exultant people. Many curious glances were cast at Tilly, for it must be remembered that she was an utter stranger in Cliffwood, and few had even known that the Brandon house boasted an occupant.
Naturally, the first thing in Mrs. Nocker’s mind was her boy. Until she had him again in her arms, she could not stop to answer any questions, or even take notice of friendly offers of temporary shelter, such as kind-hearted people were only too ready to make.
“Take me to my child!” she kept crying, half hysterically. “I want my Billy! Oh! I hope he has not been burned! Didn’t you say he was safe, Dick, dear Dick? What do we not owe you! But take me to Billy, please!”
No one could blame the poor little woman for acting in this nervous fashion, after the exciting experiences through which she had just gone. Least of all did Dick think of considering her weak. He was too happy over having succeeded in his task to think of Tilly in any other way than that she had shown remarkable bravery for one of her sex.
“Where is the child?” he asked one of the gaping bystanders.
“A woman took him in her arms, and carried him back yonder,” was the reply, when another man chimed in with his share of information:
“It was Mrs. Pettijohn, the tailor’s wife. She said she would be only too glad to take the child over to her house across the way, and give him and his mother shelter!”
“There she is talking to Jed Nocker!” added still a third member of the group, pointing as he spoke.
Nothing could hold Tilly back now, and Dick did not make any attempt to detain her, although something seemed to tell him that there was danger of his well laid plan being brought to a crisis in an unexpected and altogether hasty manner.