“Help, governor!... I am frightened!... I am frightened!...”
She dropped the letter. Her hands fluttered in space. It was as though her staring eyes beheld the sinister vision which had already so often terrified Lupin. She gave a scream of horror, tried to rise and fainted.
CHAPTER V.
THE TWENTY-SEVEN
The child was sleeping peacefully on the bed. The mother did not move from the sofa on which Lupin had laid her; but her easier breathing and the blood which was now returning to her face announced her impending recovery from her swoon.
He observed that she wore a wedding-ring. Seeing a locket hanging from her bodice, he stooped and, turning it, found a miniature photograph representing a man of about forty and a lad—a stripling rather—in a schoolboy’s uniform. He studied the fresh, young face set in curly hair:
“It’s as I thought,” he said. “Ah, poor woman!”
The hand which he took between his grew warmer by degrees. The eyes opened, then closed again. She murmured:
“Jacques....”
“Do not distress yourself . . . it’s all right he’s asleep.”