“What do you mean, child? How awful you look!”
“Mother, where is the boy?”
“I wish to God that I knew, but I don’t.”
“He hasn’t come here, then?”
“No, no, and your letter kept me here, and it was like imprisoning me. I’m near mad keeping it all to myself, and now there’s the news that Sir Richard Pelham has been arrested for the murder of the little chap who is alive and well.”
“Yes, yes, mother, I know all that, and we will put it right. I have come down for the purpose, but we must find the boy, and we have not a moment to lose.”
“You’ll tell the truth, Clary?”
“As there is a God above.”
“Thank the Lord, thank the Lord! But, child, how queer you look!”
“I am dying, mother, but I shan’t die until I have told the truth. I have suffered much, and the last straw, the last straw came to-day. You have heard of it, haven’t you?”