But at the sound of her voice the woman draws the child hastily away, and Ethel sees it reposing on her arm, whilst she slowly folds her white robes about the little form, and hides it from view.
‘Dye! Dye!’ again screams the mother, and as the nurse rushes to her assistance the spirit woman slowly fades away, with a smile of success upon her lips.
‘Bring a light. Quick!’ cries Ethel. ‘The woman has been here; she has stolen my baby. Oh, Dye, make haste! help me to get out of bed. I will get it back again if I die in the attempt.’
The Dye runs for a lamp, and brings it to the bedside as Mrs Dunstan is attempting to leave it.
‘Missus dreaming!’ she exclaims quickly, as the light falls on the pillow. ‘The baby is there—safe asleep. Missus get into bed again, and cover up well, or she will catch cold!’
‘Ah! my baby,’ cries Ethel, hysterically, as she seizes the tiny creature in her arms, ‘is he really there? Thank God! It was only a dream. But, Dye, what is the matter with him, and why is he so stiff and cold? He cannot—he cannot be—dead!’
Yes, it was true! It was not a dream after all. The white woman has carried the soul of the white child away with her, and left nothing but the senseless little body behind. As Ethel realises the extent of her misfortune, and the means by which it has been perpetrated, she sinks back upon her pillow in a state of utter unconsciousness.
When she once more becomes aware of all that is passing around her, she finds her husband by her bedside, and Cissy Lawless acting the part of the most devoted of nurses.