is shrill
cry of terror.

He leaped out, and was the first to pick the child up, immeasurably
relieved to find that after all he was not seriously hurt. His clothes
were torn, and his hands were scratched, and there, apparently, the
mischief ended. Matravers lifted him into the cab, and turned to the
frightened nurse-girl for the address.

"Nine, Greenfield Gardens, West Kensington, sir," she told him; "and
please tell the master it wasn't my fault. He is so venturesome, I
can't control him nohow. His name is Drage--Freddy Drage, sir."

And then once more Matravers felt that strange dizziness which had
come to him earlier in the day. Again he had that curious sense of
moving in a dream, as though he had, indeed, become part of an unreal
and shadowy world. The renewed motion of the cab as they drove back
again along Pall Mall, recalled him to himself. He leaned back and
looked at the boy steadily.

Yes, they were her eyes. There was no doubt about it. The little
fellow, not in the least shy, and, in fact, now become rather proud of
his adventure, commenced to prattle very soon. Matravers interrupted
him with a question,--

"Won't your mother be frightened to see you like this?" The child
stared at him with wide-open eyes.

"Why, mammy ain't there," he exclaimed. "Mammy went away ever so long
ago. I don't think she's dead, though, 'cos daddy wouldn't let me talk
about her, only just lately, since he was ill. You see," he went on
with an explanatory wave of the hand, "daddy's been a very bad man.
He's better now--leastways, he ain't so bad as he was; but I 'spect
that's why mammy went away. Don't you?"

"I daresay, Freddy," Matravers answered softly.

"We're getting very near now," Freddy remarked, looking over the apron
of the cab. "My! won't dada be surprised to see me drive up in a cab
with you! I hope he's at the window!"

"Will your father be at home now?" Matravers asked.

Freddy stared at him.

"Why, of course! Dad's always at home! Is my face very buggy? Don't
rub it any more, please. That's Jack Mason over there! I play with
him. I want him to see me. Hullo! Jack," he shouted, leaning out of
the cab, "I've been run over, right over, face all buggy. Look at it!
Hands too," spreading them out. "He's a nice boy," Freddy continued as
the cab turned a corner, "but he can't run near so fast as me, and
he's lots older. Hullo! here we are!" kicking vigorously at the apron.

Matravers looked up in surprise.