Was it a week ago? No, perhaps more. I was sure you could not have the heart to slay a child—an innocent child. ’ Melusine gave it up. O'Higgins mounted the stairs, his step extraordinarily light for one so heavy. At length, about three o'clock, as the first glimmer of dawn became visible through the barred casements of the round-house, the rattling of bolts and chains at the outer door told that some one was admitted. There was question in Gerald’s gaze as it met hers, and apology in his voice. Two children, who had been caught in the jam-closet: ingratiating smiles, back of which lay doubt and fear. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. Brown was no fool, and he understood the sudden onus of the other children to share the limelight.
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