When the carriage halted before the little dwelling where Mrs. Fox lived Roy started to get out, but Sydney drew him back.
“No, I must be alone,” he said. “Have the carriage wait here till I come out.”
But he had scarcely taken a step from the carriage when his weakness overpowered him. He tottered, and would have fallen had not Rex sprung out and caught him. Roy was at his other side in an instant, and together the two boys supported him.
“You will have to help me up to the door, I guess,” he whispered faintly; “but don’t ring; knock lightly.”
There was no one passing at the moment, nor did any light shine from the interior of the place, Roy knocked against the glass in the door, and the latter was opened on the merest crack.
“Who’s there?” came the demand in a quivering old woman’s voice.
“Sydney Pell. I am ill, but I was bound to come. My two brothers are with me. Can’t they help me in to a seat? They will then go away again.”
“No, no; they can’t come in,” was the quick response. “There must be no noise. It’s a risk to have you here.”
“Then can you open the door wide enough to help me in?” returned Sydney.
The answer was the swinging back of the door and the reaching out of the old lady’s arm.