She had been absent nearly an hour, and it was now close on twelve o’clock. When Nurse Ives came in again the house was quiet; Barbara, worn out, had retired to her own room. The servants, only too glad of the early hours after the late excitement, had retired to theirs. Nurse Hester sat with the sick woman. Mrs. Pelham was very restless. Sleep would not visit her. She insisted on holding Nurse Hester’s hand, and the nurse could not leave her for a moment. Nurse Ives knew exactly what was likely to take place, and had made her plans accordingly. At midnight she lifted the boy from the bed, and opening the wicker trunk, laid him in it. He was a little fellow and very slender; the trunk was long, and the boy fitted in comfortably.
Having done this, Nurse Ives stole down-stairs on tiptoe and motioned the cabby to leave his horse and enter the house.
“I want you to move a trunk down,” she said. “Will your horse remain quiet while you are away?”
“Oh, yes; there’s no fear of him,” answered the man. “You haven’t much luggage, have you?
“No, only the one trunk, and it is not specially heavy. Go up-stairs as quietly as you can.”
The man did so. He lifted the trunk on his shoulder.
“It’s a queer shape,” he said to the woman.
“It’s a very convenient shape,” she answered. “Skirts of dresses do not get creased in a trunk like that. I had it made on purpose.”
The man hoisted it on his shoulder and went quietly down-stairs.
He put the trunk on the cab, and Nurse Ives shut the door of 12 Ashley Mansions behind her. At about half-past twelve she reached her own place. The cabby carried the trunk up-stairs for her and laid it inside the room. The lamp was lit here, and the gas stove was burning brightly. On the table in the center of the room was something covered with a white cloth. Nurse Ives paid the cabman, who withdrew.