Anyway his little child--'kiddie'-- as it used to be called, was the dearest little fellow in the world--so playful and affectionate!--I don't wonder Tom went mad when his one joy was killed! And you saw it all, you say ?" "Yes, I saw it all!" And Helmsley, with a faint sigh half closed his eyes as he spoke--"I was tramping from Watchett,--and the motor passed me on my way, but I did not see the child run over.

I meant to get a lodging at Blue Anchor--and while I was having my supper at the public house Tom came in,--and--and it was all over in less than fifteen minutes! A horrible sight--a horrible, horrible sight! I see it now!--I shall never forget it!" "Enough to make you ill, poor dear!" said Mary, gently--"Don't think of it now! Try and sleep a little.

You mustn't talk too much.

Poor Tom is dead and buried now, and his little child with him--God rest them both! It's better he should have died than lived without anyone to love him in the world." "That's true!" And opening his eyes widely again, he gazed full at her--"That's the worst fate of all--to live in the world without anyone to love you! Tell me--when I was delirious did I only talk of Tom o' the Gleam ?" "That's the only person whose name you seemed to have on your mind,"-- she answered, smiling a little--"But you _did_ make a great noise about money!" "Money ?" he echoed--"I--I made a noise about money ?" "Yes!" And her smile deepened--"Often at night you quite startled me by shouting 'Money! Money!' I'm sure you've wanted it very badly!" He moved restlessly and avoided her gaze.

Presently he asked querulously: "Where is my old vest with all my papers ?" "It's just where I put it the night you came,"-- she answered--"I haven't touched it.