Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. I was ready to wager that your name would have marched with one of them. She lifted the sheet and gestured for him to join her. It was about—a question of what I might do or might not do. “To Paris! But why? What do you hope to discover there?” “I do not know,” he answered, “but I am going to see David Courtlaw. In fact, Kimble was drowsily awake when she entered the little bedchamber, the state of which left a good deal to be desired, even without the added debris arising from tending a wounded man.
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