What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. \" The thick girl with the blue- black hair spat. ‘Your niece, ma’am. ’ ‘Aye, more’s the pity. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. We shall have—hardly any money. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. Besides," added he, opening the shawl in which the infant was wrapped, and throwing the light of the candle full upon its sickly, but placid features, "it's sinful to repine while you've a child like this to comfort you.
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