” “Believe me that I have answered you wisely,” she said, in a gentler tone, “wisely for you too, as well as myself. Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. Half an hour's labour, during which he was obliged more than once to pause to regain breath, sufficed to make a hole wide enough to allow a passage for his arm up to the elbow. . It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. " "I know not how it is," sighed Darrell, "but I feel an unaccountable misgiving at quitting this place.
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