A hundred pounds to the man who takes him. Go to it; and the best of luck!" He went out. I needn't tell you to tread carefully. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. Make haste!" Ruth hurried off to her own room. Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. Wood trembled. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. "Any price was better than your head. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other.
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