Kneeling by her side, he waited for her consciousness to come back. Her hands, so cold and nerveless, grew warmer, her lips smiled wearily, yet with divine maternal tenderness, and at last she spoke. "My big, splendid boy! I knew you would not desert me. I knew it; I knew it. I prayed for you."
"I came by the very first train," he answered, "and I am here to defend you."
A loud knocking at the door startled her and she clasped his hand tightly as she whispered: "That is another of my enemies. All day they have been coming. Send them away."
He put her hands down and rose tensely. "I'll smash their faces," he hotly declared.
"Don't be rash, Victor, please."
He strode to the door and opened it. A dark, handsome young woman and a grinning youth stood without. They were both a little dashed by Victor's appearance as he queried, with scowling brow, "What do you want?"
The man replied, "We came to have a sitting."
Victor exploded. "Get out," he shouted. "If you come back here again I'll throw you down the stairs." Thereupon he slammed the door in their faces and returned to his mother.
"We've got to get away from here," he said as he came to her. "We can't stay here another day."
"That must be as my guide, your grandfather, says," she replied.