But what he could do or might do she could not imagine. I don't care how soon he learns that he has lost his adopted son. "The Chevalier shall hear of this," whispered the woollen-draper. She no more realizes what she has done than a child of eight. “It was best for me to know. You will be under the eye of the best friend I have; and if you do not treat that child for what she is —an innocent angel—I promise to hunt you across the wide world and kill you with bare hands. How long he continued thus he scarcely knew; but just before dawn, he managed to regain his legs, and, crawling up a bank, perceived he was within a quarter of a mile of Tottenham. Gerald swore.
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