Part 49 (1/2)
Walking along with heart and thought where they dwelt for so large a part of her time, Edith, in turning a corner, came upon a woman who stopped at sight of her as if suddenly fastened to the ground--stopped only for an instant, like one surprised by an unexpected and unwelcome encounter, and then made a motion to pa.s.s on. But Edith, partly from memory and partly from intuition, recognized her nurse, and catching fast hold of her, said in a low imperative voice, while a look of wild excitement spread over her face,
”Where is my baby?”
The woman tried to shake her off, but Edith held her with a grasp that could not be broken.
”For Heaven's sake,” exclaimed the woman ”let go of me! This is the public street, and you'll have a crowd about us in a moment, and the police with them.”
But Edith kept fast hold of her.
”First tell me where I can find my baby,” she answered.
”Come along,” said the woman, moving as she spoke in the direction Edith was going when they met. ”If you want a row with the police, I don't.”
Edith was close to her side, with her hand yet upon her and her voice in her ears.
”My baby! Quick! Say! Where can I find my baby?”
”What do I know of your baby? You are a fool, or mad!” answered the woman, trying to throw her off. ”I don't know you.”
”But I know you, Mrs. Bray,” said Edith, speaking the name at a venture as the one she remembered hearing the servant give to her mother.
At this the woman's whole manner changed, and Edith saw that she was right--that this was, indeed, the accomplice of her mother.
”And now,” she added, in voice grown calm and resolute, ”I do not mean to let you escape until I get sure knowledge of my child. If you fly from me, I will follow and call for the police. If you have any of the instincts of a woman left, you will know that I am desperately in earnest. What is a street excitement or a temporary arrest by the police, or even a station-house exposure, to me, in comparison with the recovery of my child? Where is he?”
”I do not know,” replied Mrs. Bray. ”After seeing your father--”
”My father! When did you see him?” exclaimed Edith, betraying in her surprised voice the fact that Mr. Dinneford had kept so far, even from her, the secret of that brief interview to which she now referred.
”Oh, he hasn't told you! But it's no matter--he will do that in good time. After seeing your father, I made an effort to get possession of your child and restore him as I promised to do. But the woman who had him hidden somewhere managed to keep out of my way until this morning.
And now she says he got off from her, climbed out of a second-story window and disappeared, no one knows where.”
”This woman's name is Pinky Swett?” said Edith.
”Yes.”
Mrs. Bray felt the hand that was still upon her arm shake as if from a violent chill.
”Do you believe what she says?--that the child has really escaped from her?”
”Yes.”
”Where does she live?”
Mrs. Bray gave the true directions, and without hesitation.
”Is this child the one she stole from the Briar-street mission on Christmas day?” asked Edith.
”He is,” answered Mrs. Bray.