"After you came into my mind I never rested till I found a way to get out. I waited till everything was quiet. They'd gone to bed. Then I managed it—through the window—down the grapevine trellis—I——"
Martha made her way to the corner cupboard. "I'll fix you up with arnica an' water inside and out," she explained. "An', while I'm doin' it, you tell me what you've planned."
"Nothing. I've planned nothing. Buller says I'm looney. Perhaps I am. I can't seem to think."
"Have you got any folks anywheres? I mean, on your father's side?"
"I've an uncle. Father's brother. But he lives in Montreal."
"Montreal! Where would that be, I wonder?"
"In Canada. Up north."
Mrs. Slawson bound on her soothing compresses in silence. Suddenly she paused, alert, listening. Then, quick as a flash, she caught her visitor by the sleeve, drew her back in to the entry and pushed her into a small closet under the stairs.
"Hush! I hear a horse. Don't you breathe till I come an' tell you."
A moment later she was lying in bed, as still as though she, like Sam, were fast asleep and dreaming.