feet.

Emma Smith handed over the whip meekly enough. She was thoroughly
scared now, for she never doubted that Huldah was dead, and that the
policeman would declare that she had killed the child. In her terror
for herself, her anxiety about her husband was forgotten. She began
to wail and sob and beg forgiveness. She threw herself on the
ground, calling loudly to Huldah to open her eyes and get up.
She tried coaxings and all sorts of promises, but the policeman only
thrust her aside.

"Go and get some cold water," he said, sternly.

She crept away meekly, and presently brought back a little drop in a
broth basin. "That's all there is," she said, apologetically.
It was very little, but with it the big man bathed the child's face
and hands, and dabbed her lips and her brow.

"Go and get a blanket," he ordered. "She oughtn't to be lying on the
cold wet ground so long. She doesn't seem to be coming round."
He felt Huldah's pulse, and laid his hand over her heart. "It _is_
beating," he muttered, in a tone of relief. Then he lifted her on to
the blanket, and wrapped her in it, then bathed her brow again, until
presently a faint quiver of the body and a fluttering sigh showed
that consciousness was returning.

At last Huldah opened her eyes and looked vaguely about her,
wondering where she was. At sight of her aunt and the policeman the
old look of terror came back to her face, and she struggled to sit
up.

"Don't you hurry yourself, now," said the policeman, kindly.
"And don't you be afraid of me. I've come to look after you, and
take you back to your friends."

"You can't," muttered Emma Smith, sullenly. "She's mine.
The child's right enough; they all want a hiding sometimes."

"Sometimes, perhaps, but not constant; and never as you lays it on.
I should be taking you up for murder if you did it often in your
way!"

Emma Smith only looked more sullen. "Well, she's mine, and no one
else's, and I'm going to keep her."

"Look here, my woman, what's the good of going on like that?
You've got to prove, first of all, that she is yours, and then that
you're a fit and proper person to have her. In the meantime I've got
my orders to fetch her away, and if you want her you can apply to the
magistrates, and prove to them all that you've been saying.
Now, then, where's her bonnet and shawl?"

"She hasn't got any," sulkily.

"Then you've got to provide her with some. Hurry up; but first of
all, has she ha