This woman was not a resident in the court, or Hannah would have felt compelled to change her quarters. As it was, however, it was absolutely impossible for her to let any one know of Roy's existence. By this time, during the two complete days they had spent together, the woman and child had grown very close to each other. Hannah had a power over children. Little Roy had grown fond of her; he was contented with his cellar life, he liked to stand by her knee, and when she took him on her lap the feel of her arms put tightly round him was comfortable. Already the fickle baby mind had forgotten Faith, he was Hannah's boy to all intents and purposes. But all the same--though she had never known such pure happiness since Davie died--Hannah was puzzled what to do with this stolen child. Cleaning her cellar and playing with him brought no money to give food to either; she must go out to earn something, she must leave the child behind her, and if he cried in any way the neighbours overhead would discover his existence, and then her secret would be out, and her treasure torn from her arms. If only it were in the night she had to leave him, little Roy would sleep, and there would be no danger; but he was a wakeful, lively child, and seldom closed his eyes for the livelong day. Hannah resolved to seek for coarse needlework, which she could do at home, but to obtain such she must be absent several hours, and during those hours was the time of danger. On the evening of the second day, after putting her baby boy to bed, she went out, locking the door carefully behind her. She meant to visit a neighbour who lived in the opposite side of the court. This woman too occupied a cellar, but it was a far worse one than Hannah's, smaller, dirtier, and crowded with children, from ten years of age to a baby of six months. This baby now lay in profound sleep on the bed. Hannah went over to look at the little colourless, waxen face. "How sound she ha' gone off, Jane Martin!" she exclaimed. "My Davie now 'ud never lie as still as that, and wid h'all them others makin' sech a din, too." "'Tis h'all along o' them blessed drops," replied Mrs Martin. "Afore I knew of them there worn't a more worriting baby in the world." "What drops?" asked Hannah. "Some as a neighbour give me, I dunno the name. She give me a big bottle full, and I drops three or four into her milk, and she'll never wake now till mornin', and then she'll be drowsy like and I can hush her off any minute." "They must be a real comfort," answered Hannah, and it darted into her head that it would be very nice to put Roy to sleep in the same way. "They're a blessing to over-worked mothers, and that I will say," replied Mrs Martin. "Here's the stuff, it looks innercent, don't it? like a drop o' water; but fur all that,--it's wonderful how it soothes off a fretful baby." Hannah took the bottle in her hand and looked at its contents with greedy eyes.