"Oh, God in Heaven!" she cried, "it is a little child!"
Chapter XXVI.
The cry died away in Dorothy's throat as her terrified eyes fell upon the bundle which she held in her arms.
Yes, it was a little child.
"Oh, the cruelty of it!" she sobbed aloud. Some one had doomed it to death on this bitter night, and she thanked Heaven for bringing her to that spot to save its life.
Wrapping it quickly in the ends of her long thick cloak, Dorothy hurried to the nearest shelter with it.
This happily proved to be a small cottage on the outskirts of the town. A solitary ray of light shone from one of the windows, and without hesitation Dorothy hastened up the little narrow path to the porch and rang the bell.
She quite believed that she would know the inmates of the cottage, for she well knew every one in the village.
It was a strange woman that opened the door at length and peered out at her, and a shrill voice cried:
"Why, as I live, Maria, it's a woman standing out here with a child in her arms! Why, what in the world can you want?" she cried, addressing Dorothy.