The tramp of men was now heard below in the passage, and a voice cried, “Detain any one who attempts to leave the house. Should you meet with resistance, cut him down at once.” “The song!” cried Gray. He then insinuated himself between the wall and the cot, so that no part of him was visible, and in a hissing whisper, he again cried to the trembling agonised mother,— “The song! The song!” A confused sound on the staircase now announced the approach of the persons and once more from his place of concealment, Gray hissed between his teeth,— “Curses on you! Will you do as I bid you, or must I do the deed?” “Spare him! Spare him!” said the mother. “Oh, spare him!” “The song!” cried Gray. CHAPTER LIII. A Mother’s Care.—The Pursuit.—A Successful Ruse.—The Second Visit. With a faltering voice the terrified female commenced the strain which Gray had overheard her singing to her child before it was placed in the fearful jeopardy she now considered it in. The men’s footsteps sounded on the staircase, as in trembling accents she softly repeated the words,— “My babe, if I had offers three, From gentle heavenly powers, To bless thee, who, with aching heart, I’ve watched so many hours—” There was then a slight pause—a knock from without—a broad glare of light, and Jacob Gray’s pursuers were in the room. The mother rose from her chair, and cried,— “What do you mean?—What is the meaning of all this?” “We are pursuing a man, who is hiding in one of these houses,” replied a stern voice. “I am an officer. There has been murder done, my good woman.” “Murder!” “Yes. A man has been savagely murdered at the bottom of the steps, and he who committed the deed is somewhere about here. Have you heard any alarm?” “I have heard many voices.” “I mean have you heard any one on the stairs, or has any one been here?” “I was singing to my child. Pray do not speak so loud, or you will awaken it.” “Search the room,” cried the man. The mother walked to the side, of the cot, and appeared to be regarding the features of her sleeping babe, but she was in reality endeavouring to hide the expression of terror which she felt was upon her face. The men raised the torches they carried high above their heads, and glanced round the miserable apartment. “Open that cupboard,” said one. It was opened and then shut again. “Move that cot,” cried he who appeared to be in authority. “No,” cried the mother, suddenly looking up, “do your duty in discovering the criminal, but do not in doing it commit a needless act of cruelty.” “Cruelty!” “Yes; you see my babe is sleeping. Why move his cot and awaken him? He has been ill. The fever spot is still upon his cheek. The quiet slumber he is now enjoying is the first he has had for many weary nights and days. How could a murderer hide with a sleeping child? Some of you perhaps have little ones of your own, if you have, you will think of them, and not harm mine.”