It was the grieving cry of his own sick babe.
"Poor child!" he murmured.

"I wonder what can ail her ?" He looked up at the chamber windows.

The curtains were drawn aside, and he saw upon the ceiling of the room the shadow of some one moving to and fro.

He did not doubt that it was the shadow of his wife, as, with their sick babe in her arms, she walked to and fro in the effort to soothe it again to sleep.

Had there been a doubt, it would have been quickly dispelled, for there came to his ears the soft tones of a voice he knew full well--came in tones of music, low and soothing, but with most touching sweetness.