“Leave her alone,” said the officer. “My good woman, we don’t want to disturb your child. We have our duty, however, to do; but I am quite satisfied he whom we seek is not here.”
“A mother’s blessing be upon you, sir,” said the woman. “You have, perhaps, saved the very life of my child by not disturbing it.”
“What, has it been so bad as that?” remarked another.
“Oh, quite, quite!”
“The turn of a fever in those young things is always a ticklish affair,” remarked another.
“Come on,” said the officer, “come on. We are sorry for disturbing you. If any strange man should walk in here, be sure you give an immediate alarm.”
“Yes, yes,” gasped the young mother, scarcely yet believing that her infant was safe.
In a few moments more the room was clear of the men, and then the woman covered her face with her hands and burst into such a hysterical passion of weeping, that Gray was dreadfully alarmed lest it should be heard, and induce a return of his pursuers.
“Peace, woman—peace,” he said, in a hoarse whisper, from his hiding-place. “I am not yet out of danger, nor is your child yet safe from my vengeance.”
“Man, man!” cried the mother, “I have saved your life. Be grateful and depart.”