" There was a pause. Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. Here, Peter," he added to a curly-headed lad, who was playing on one of the grassy tombs, "ask your father to step this way. Her back stiffened. Late in July he finished the fourth story. "What is all this, dear Winny?" inquired Thames, as soon as they were alone. Wrap yourself in my cloak, and keep it. " "I know where she will be found, and how," rejoined Jack with a shudder. I’m off to England.
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