But eagerly though she listened, with her ear to the door, not the slightest movement was heard within.
While the mother shrunk close to the door in a listening attitude, the sound of a slow, heavy step was heard approaching along the street.

Soon the form of a man came in view, and in a little while he was in front of Mrs.Howland, where he paused, and after standing and looking at her for a few moments, said, "What's the matter here ?" Mrs.Howland trembled so, that she could make no answer.
The man put his hand on the iron railing, and lifted one foot upon the stone steps leading to the door of the house, saying as he did so, "Do you live here ?" "Yes!" was replied in a low, frightened voice.
Mrs.Howland now looking at the man more closely, perceived, by his dress, that he was one of the night policemen, and her heart took instant courage.
"Oh," said she, forgetting, for the moment, the unpleasant circumstances by which she was surrounded, and turning to the man as she spoke, "have you seen anything of my son--of Mr.Howland's son--about here to-night ?" "Mrs.Howland! Is it possible!" replied the man, in a respectful voice.

Then he added, "I saw him go down the street about half an hour ago." "Did you! And do you know where he has gone ?" "No, ma'am.

He passed on out of sight." A low moan escaped the mother's lips at this intelligence.

A few moments she stood silent, and then placed her hand upon the bell-pull and rung for admittance.
"Is the door locked ?" asked the watchman, manifesting surprise.
"No; the wind blew it to, and it has become fastened with the dead-latch." Both stood silent for some time, but no one answered the bell.