"How horrible! How cowardly!" And then, feeling that her last hope had gone, Lady Chepstow broke into a fit of violent weeping and laid her head on Ailsa's shoulder.
"Oh, my baby! My darling baby boy!" she sobbed.

"And now they are threatening somebody that you, too, love.

Of course, Mr.Cleek, I can't expect you to risk the sacrifice of your own dear ones for the sake of me and mine, and so--and so--Oh, take me away, Miss Lorne! Let me go back to my baby and have him while I may." "Good-night, Mr.Cleek!" said Ailsa, stretching out a shaking hand to him.

"Thank you so much for--for what you would have done but for this.
And you were our last hope, too!" "Why give it up then, Miss Lorne ?" he said, holding her hand and looking into her eyes.

"Why not go on letting me be your last hope--your only hope ?" "Yes, but they--they spoke of a funeral wreath." "And they also spoke of a wedding bouquet! I am going to take the case, Miss Lorne--take it, and solve it, as I'm a living man.