He bent over her, and her arms clasped his neck.
“My boy! my boy!” she said faintly; and she drew him to her breast, to hold him there for some moments before saying quickly:
“Have I slept long, dear?”
“Yes, ever since morning, mother.”
“What time is it?”
“About half-past five.”
“All that time?” she said excitedly. “He must be near now. Frank, my boy, the prisoners were to reach London soon after dark.”
“Yes, mother, I know,” he said, looking at her wistfully, as he held her hand now to his cheek.
“Is there any news?”
“No, mother, none.”