"I came to inquire about the baby," Mrs. Thorpe said. "How is he to-night?"
"The baby's better, thank you, Mrs. Thorpe. He's sleepin' natural to-night."
"I am glad to know it," Mrs. Thorpe replied. "I had a feeling of uneasiness about the little fellow; but if I am not needed I will go back at once, for I think the storm increases."
Again out in the dark, windy night, she questioned her purpose. What was it that had impelled her to go out into the night and the storm?
The part of the street that lay between this house and her cottage was scarcely more than a foot-path, and she was following it somewhat uncertainly when she stopped short and drew back in sudden fright.
There was something directly in front of her, flapping in the wind, like the dark wing of some great bird or evil spirit. For a moment she wavered, trembling and irresolute, then her unflinching spirit asserted itself and she approached the object. Now she could discern that it was a garment that was flying in the wind, and as she drew near to the object it moved, partly arose, and fell back again.
"Who is this?" asked Mrs. Thorpe, now close to the prostrate form. "Are you hurt or ill?" She stooped and laid her hand upon the object. "Are you ill?" she repeated. "Can I assist you? Why are you here?" She was down beside the creature now, and a moan and a bitter cry greeted her.
"Why am I here--why--why am I here--" It was a woman's voice.
Mrs. Thorpe took hold of her.
"Do what you can to help yourself," she said, "and I will assist you." But she soon saw that the burden was too great for her strength, and the unfortunate creature was down on the ground again. She was about to go back and ask Mrs. Boyd to assist her when she saw the figure of a man approaching. As he drew near she spoke to him.