She stood at length in the broad moonlight on down the white, far-reaching road. Her heart beat so fast as almost to stifle her. She dared not look down at the child. The moon itself even looked suspicious!

For an instant she wished herself back in the nursery. But she knew it would only be to do it all over again. It had to be done! She could never leave the child of her sister where he was considered in the way, with those who hated him, where his helpless life would be in danger. She could not!

But while she was thinking, she did not stand still. Softly, with great strides, she went stalking along the road. She knew the country and was not many miles from her father’s forge. At moments she almost seemed to hear the ring of his hammer through the still night.

She kept to the road for three or four miles, then turned aside on a great moor stretching far to the south. Daybreak was coming fast, and she must find some cottage or natural shelter so that the light would not betray her. When the sun had made his round and yielded his place to the friendly night once again, she would start afresh. In her bundle she had enough for the baby. She herself could hold out many hours without food. A few more miles from Mortgrange and no one would know her, neither from any possible description, could they be suspected by the garments they wore! Her object in hiding their usual attire had been that it might be taken for granted that they had gone away in it.

She did not slacken her pace till she had walked five miles more. Then she stood a moment, gazing about her. The great heath was all around, solitary as the heaven out of which the solitary moon was watching them. Even then she would not stop to rest except for the briefest breathing space. On and on she went for another five miles, as near as she could judge, until the moorland was behind her. Then at length she sat down upon a stone, and a timid flutter of safety stirred in her bosom, followed by a gush of love victorious.

Her treasure! Not once on the long way had she looked at him. Now she folded back the shawl and gazed on the sleeping countenance. Who but she could have a right to the child? Surely not a cold-hearted, cruel stepmother who would give him to a hired woman! She jumped to her feet, and hurried on. The boy was no light weight, and she had other things to carry besides. But before seven o’clock she had cleared some sixteen miles, in a line away from Mortgrange as straight as she could keep.

She neared a village whose name she knew, but she dared not show herself lest some inquiry might later reach it and lead to the discovery of the route she had taken. Therefore she turned aside into an old quarry to spend the day. The child was now awake, but still drowsy. She gave him a little food, and ate the crust she had saved from her tea the night before. During the long hours she slept a good deal by fits, and when evening came she was quite ready to resume her tramp. To her joy it became cloudy, giving her courage to enter a little shop she saw on the outskirts of the village and buy some milk and bread. From this point she kept to the road. If she had the opportunity she might now take help from a cart or wagon. She was not without some money, but was afraid of the train.