She sprang to her feet and threw her arms around the youngest boy's neck.
"Oh, my baby, my baby, I can't let ye go—I can't—I can't!"
She lifted her tear-streaming eyes to the dark face again.
"Please, please, for the love of
God—you—say—you—believe—in—God—leave me this one!"
Brown moved his head in a moment's uncertainty. He turned to Owen.
"Leave him and come on with the others."
With a desperate cry, the mother closed her eyes and clung to the boy.
She dared not lift them in prayer for the others as they passed out into the night.
The armed men had seized her husband and her two older sons, William and Drury, and hustled them through the door. The mother drew the boy back on the trundle bed and held him in her arms. The little girls crouched close and began to sob.
"Hush—don't make a noise. They won't hurt you. I want to hear what they do—maybe—"