She hurried home in a great fright, not knowing what to do; then calmed herself with the thought that even if he had recognised her, there were many chances against his following her, or at least finding her, with no clue, and after so many years. And then a dreadful panic seized her at the thought that he might take her boy from her. He had known nothing about the boy: but if he discovered that fact it would make a great difference. He could not compel Janey to return to him, but he could take the boy. When this occurred to her she started up again, having just sat down, and put on her bonnet and called the child.
"Are you going out again, mother?" he cried.
"Yes, directly, directly: come, John, come, come!" she said, putting his cap upon his head and seizing him by the hand. She led him straight to the presbytery, and asked for the curé, and went in to the good priest in great agitation, leaving the boy with his housekeeper.
"M. l'Abbé," she said, with what the village called her English directness, "I have just seen my husband go past in the train!"
"Not possible!" said M. l'Abbé, who only half believed there was a husband at all.
"And he saw me. He will come back, and I am afraid he will find me. I want you to do something for me."
"With pleasure," said the priest; "I will come and meet Monsieur your husband, and I will explain——"
"That is not what I want you to do. I want you to let John stay with you, to keep him here till—till——He will want to take him away from me!" she cried.
"He will want to take you both away, chère petite dame. He has a right to do so."
"No, no! but I do not ask you what is his right. I ask you to keep John safe; to keep him here—till the danger has passed away!"