“And why not? Oh! surely they would not harm you.”
“He would kill me,” replied the child, glancing in terror towards the house.
“Who?”
“Uncle.”
“And who is uncle?”
“Don’t you know?”
“What! Arrison?”
“Yes.”
Kate looked at the child earnestly. There seemed to her something strangely familiar, in the large, eloquent eyes of the young creature before her. The whole countenance, indeed, reminded her of some one she had known, but she could not recall whom, though she endeavored, again and again, to remember. The likeness, after all, however, was a confused one, with gleams of that which was familiar mingled with others which were foreign; and these latter it was which appeared to Kate to give such an air of innocence and even holiness to the face. After a moment’s scrutiny, she recalled her perilous condition, and as every instant was precious, endeavored again to persuade the child to allow her departure.
“You must be mistaken,” she said, “your uncle surely would not hurt you.”