"He didn't half believe me, but I says to him, 'You come up and stand outside the door, and if I can't persuade 'em, I'll call you. I don't want to have a row if I can get the children peaceable.' "'Ain't they got no one belongin' to 'em?' he says, as we got to the door. "'Their mother's dead and their father drinks; he might be anywhere,' I says to him. "'I'll tell you where _he_ is, then,' he says, 'if this is the house. He's dyin' in the hospital, he is. He was run over this mornin'.' "'Is _that_ their father?' says I; and, mother, if you'll believe me, I felt all at once as if they ought to belong to me, since I'd been saved, and this man of my name had been took. "So we went up, and when we come to the door she'd begun beatin' of Cherry again. "'Stop that!' I says, goin' in quick, and she looked as if she'd been shot. 'And now I've come to fetch these 'ere little 'uns away. I've seen yer cruelty to 'em, and if you make a fuss I'll expose you, as sure as my name's Jem Seymour.' "With that she stares at me hard, and I go to Dickie and untie his eyes once more. They was terrible bad by this time, and he only cried more than ever at the light, and ran to Cherry. "'Come, Cherry,' I says to her, 'there's them outside as will see justice done this time. Come along with me; put that shawl round Dickie, and never you fear, my dear.' "Then I turned to her as they call old Sairy--'As for you,' says I, 'if you're ever seen with such another little 'un as this, I'll give you in charge that instant!' "Cherry lifted Dickie up, but she was too sore to carry him. So I took him in my arms, and he clung round my neck, and so we come away. The woman was too scared to say a word, but I think as she caught sight of the p'liceman's helmet as we went down." Mrs. Seymour sat with her breakfast almost untasted. "Oh, God be thanked as they are safe," she said at last. "Jem, you did quite right." "I think as I did," he answered; "but it's a cruel world, mother." "And that child, Cherry, said as she was praying for a home?" asked Mrs. Seymour presently. "Yes; she told me so as we come along. Her little heart was near breakin'." Mrs. Seymour said no more, but went into the back room to see if Meg had waked. Still she and Dickie slept; so leaving the door ajar, she ascended to her own rooms, taking a cup of tea in her hand for her lodger. She found her awake, and very glad of the tea and the latest news. While they were talking Cherry raised her head from her pillow and looked round startled. Then she saw Mrs. Seymour's kind face, and understood it all. "Have you slept long enough, my dear?" she asked. "I think so; when I opened my eyes at first I thought it was two years ago, and that this was our home before father took to drink so bad." "Did your mother die since then?"