Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. “I cannot keep silence any longer. “I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he said. A species of vertigo seized him. No good at all. Wrap yourself in my cloak, and keep it. They either ran to see or ran for shelter. “I shall never be able to thank you.
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