'He can't get away by the front. We couldn't save him--nobody could. I tell you they'll tear him to pieces.'
As the sergeant spoke the Stranger came and stood at the door by the Secretary of State. A policeman rushed up the steps bearing something in his arms. He addressed the sergeant.
'This child's dead. Sir William Braidwood says most of the bones in its body are broken; it's crushed nearly to a jelly. It doesn't seem to have had any friends or anything. Could you see it taken into the house?'
The sergeant received the child. The Stranger said to him: 'Give it to Me.'
'You? Why you? Let it be taken into the house and put decent.'
'Give Me the child.'
He took the child and pressed it to His bosom, and the child, opening its eyes, looked up at Him. He kissed it on the brow.
'You have been asleep,' He said.
The child sat up in His arms and laughed.
The Archbishop whispered to the Cardinal: