"Wife," he said, "we can't do better than to take the only thing that's
offered. The floor's firm, an' it's out o' the air. It's some sort of a
cellar--p'r'aps at the bottom of a church. It do look as if it wur left
open jest for us!--You _used_ to talk about _him_ above, wife!"
He took her by the hand and led the way into the darkness, the boys
following, one of them with a hold of his mother, and his arm round the
other, who was carrying Moxy. Franks closed the door behind them, and
they had gained a refuge. Feeling about, one of the boys came upon a
large packing-case; having laid it down against the inner wall, Franks
sat, and made his wife lie upon it, with her head on his knees, and took
Moxy again in his arms, wrapt in one of their three thin blankets. The
boys stretched themselves on the ground, and were soon fast asleep. The
baby moaned by fits all the night long.
In about an hour Franks, who for long did not sleep, heard the door open
softly and stealthily, and seemed aware of a presence besides themselves
in the place. He concluded some other poor creature had discovered the
same shelter; or, if they had got into a church-vault, it might be some
wandering ghost; he was too weary for further speculation, or any
uneasiness.
Pages:
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472