Just what a coward and
blackguard like that would do--leave the children at the mercy of the
woman he couldn't face himself. How in Heaven's name will they live?'

'Oh, her father, the furrier, will have to look after them,' the
gossips assured her. 'He gave her good money, you know, fifty pounds
and the bedding. Ah, trust Elkman for that. He knew he wasn't leaving
the children to starve.'

'I don't know so much,' said the old woman, shaking her bewigged head.

What was to be done? Suppose the furrier refused the burden. But
Henry's flight, she felt, had removed her even farther from the Elkman
household. If she went to spy out the land, she would now have to face
the virago in possession. But no! on second thoughts it was this other
woman whom Henry's flight had changed to a stranger. What had the
wretch to do with the children? She was a mere intruder in the house.
Out with her, or at least out with the children.

Yes, she would go boldly there and demand them. 'Poor Becky! Poor
Joseph!' her heart wailed. 'You to be beaten and neglected after
having known the love of a mother.' True, it would not be easy to
support them. But a little more haggling, a little more tramping, a
little more mending, and a little less gorging and gormandising! They
would be at school during the day, so would not interfere with her
rounds, and in the evening she could have them with her as she sat
refurbishing the purchases of the day. Ah, what a blessed release from
the burden of loneliness, heavier than the heaviest sack! It was well
worth the price. And then at bedtime she would say the Hebrew
night-prayer with them and tuck them up, just as she had once done
with her Fanny.

But how if the woman refused to yield them up--as Natalya could fancy
her refusing--out of sheer temper and devilry? What if, amply
subsidized by her well-to-do parent, she wished to keep the little
ones by her and revenge upon them their father's desertion, or hold
them hostages for his return? Why, then, Natalya would use
cunning--ay, and force, too--she would even kidnap them. Once in their
grandmother's hands, the law would see to it that they did not go back
to this stranger, this bibulous brute, whose rights over them were
nil.

It was while buying up on a Sunday afternoon the sloughed vestments of
a Jewish family in Holloway that her resolve came to a head. A cab
would be necessary to carry her goods to her distant garret. What an
opportunity for carry