y man there, and the woman naturally fixed upon him.

"You are the man," she said, in a quiet and reasonable voice, and coming
up to Mordacks with the manner of a lady; "you are the gentleman, I
mean, who promised to bring back my husband. Where is he? Have you
fulfilled your promise?"

"My dear madam, my dear madam, consider your children, and how cold you
are. Allow me to conduct you to a warmer place. You scarcely seem to
enter into the situation."

"Oh yes, I do, sir; thoroughly, thoroughly. My husband is in his grave;
my children are going after him; and the best place for them. But they
shall not be murdered. I will lock them up, so that they never shall be
murdered."

"My dear lady, I agree with you entirely. You do the very wisest thing
in these bad times. But you know me well. I have had the honor of making
your acquaintance in a pleasant manner. I feel for your children, quite
as if I was--I mean, ma'am, a very fine old gentleman's affection.
Geraldine, come and kiss me, my darling. Tommy, you may have the other
side; never mind the coal, my boy; there is a coal-wharf quite close to
my windows at home."

These children, who had been hiding behind Mr. Mordacks and Molly (who
was now come back), immediately did as he ordered them; or rather Jerry
led the way, and made Tommy come as well, by a signal which he never
durst gainsay. But while they saluted the general factor (who sat down
upon a box to accommodate them), from the corners of their eyes they
kept a timid, trembling, melancholy watch upon their own mother.

Poor Mrs. Carroway was capable of wondering. Her power of judgment was
not so far lost as it is in a dream--where we wonder at nothing, but
cast off skeptic misery--and for the moment she seemed to be brought
home from the distance of roving delusion, by looking at two of her
children kissing a man who was hunting in his pocket for his card.

"Circumstances, madam," said Mr. Mordacks, "have deprived me of the
pleasure of producing my address. It should be in two of my pockets; but
it seems to have strangely escaped from both of them. However, I will
write it down, if required. Geraldine dear, where is your school slate?
Go and look for it, and take Tommy with you."

This surprised Mrs. Carroway, and began to make her think. These were
her children--she was nearly sure of that--her own poor children, who
were threatened from all sides with the likelihood of being done away
with. Yet here was