e come to you.' Then she held up the baby.
'Mamma, let him in, so that he come to his own baby. You dare not keep
the father away from his own child.' At this time the nurse was in the
hall, as was also the cook. But the front door was locked as well as
chained, and the key was in Mrs. Bolton's own pocket. She sat perfectly
silent, rigid, without a motion. She had known that he would come and
show himself; and she had determined that she would be rigid, silent,
and motionless. She would not move or speak unless Hester should
endeavour to make her way down into the kitchen. But just in the passage
which led to the top of the kitchen stairs stood the cook,--strong,
solid, almost twice the weight of Hester,--a pious, determined woman, on
whom her mistress could depend that she would remain there impervious.

They could talk to each other now, Hester and Caldigate, each explaining
or suggesting what had been done or should be done; but they could
converse only so that their enemies around them should hear every word
that was spoken. 'No, John, no; I will not stay,' she said, when her
husband told her that he would leave the decision to her. 'Unless it be
to do your bidding, I will not stay here willingly. And, John, I will
not move upstairs. I will remain here; and if they choose to give me
food they may bring it to me. Unless they carry me I will not go to my
bedroom. And they shall tear me to pieces before I will let them carry
me. Poor baby! poor baby! I know he will be ill,' she said, moaning, but
still so that he, standing beyond the railings, should hear her through
the window. 'I know he will be ill; but what can I do? They do not care
for my baby. If he should die it will be nothing to them.' During all
this Mrs. Bolton kept her resolve, and sat there rigid, with her eyes
fixed on vacancy, speaking no word, apparently paying no attention to
the scene around her. Her back was turned to the front door, so that she
could not see John Caldigate. Nor would she attempt to look at him. He
could not get in, nor could the other get out. If that were so she would
endeavour to bear it all. In the meantime the old man was sitting in his
arm-chair up in his bedroom, reduced almost to inanity of mind by the
horror of the occasion. When he could think of it all he would tell
himself that he must let her go. He could not keep the mother and her
baby a prisoner in such a condition as this.

Then there came dinner. Let misfortunes be