Nance sank slowly against the table and rested the bag on the edge of the chair. Its weight was more than she could bear. She tried to glance over her shoulder at the body on the couch and her courage failed. The first suspicion of the hideous truth flashed through her stunned mind. She couldn't grasp it at once. “Whar?” she whispered hoarsely. Mary lifted her arm slowly and pointed to the couch. “There!” Nance glared at her a moment and broke into a hysterical laugh. “It's a lie--a lie--a lie!” “It's true----” “Yer're just a lyin' ter me ter get away an give me up--but ye won't do it--little Miss--old Nance is too smart for ye this time. Who told you that?” “He told me tonight!” “He told you?” she repeated blankly. “Yes.” “You're a liar!” she growled. “And I'll prove it--you move out o' your tracks an' I'll cut your throat. My boy's got a scar on his neck--I know right whar to look for it. Don't you move now till I see--I know you're a liar----” She turned and with the quick trembling fingers of her right hand tore the shirt back from the neck and saw the scar. She still held the bag in her left hand. The muscles slowly relaxed and the bag fell endwise to the floor, the gold crashing and rolling over the boards. She stared in stupor and threw both hands above her streaming gray hair. “Lord God Almighty!” she shrieked. “Why didn't I think that he wuz somebody else's boy if he weren't mine!” The thin body trembled and crumpled beside the couch. The girl lifted her head in a look of awe as if in prayer. “And God has set me free! free! free!” CHAPTER XXIII. THE DOCTOR Mary stood overwhelmed by the tragedy she had witnessed. For the time her brain refused to record sensations. She had seen too much, felt too much in the past eight hours. Soul and body were numb. The first impressions of returning consciousness were fixed on Nance. She had risen suddenly from the floor and smoothed the hair back from Jim's forehead with tender touch as if afraid to wake him. She drew the quilt from the kitchen floor, spread it over the body, and lifted her eyes to Mary's. It was only too plain. Reason had gone. She tipped close and put her fingers on her lips. “Sh! We mustn't wake him. He's tired. Let him sleep. It's my boy. He's come home. We'll fix him a fine Christmas dinner. I've got a turkey. I'll bake a cake----” she paused and laughed softly. “I've got eggs too, fresh laid yesterday. We'll make egg-nog all day and all night. I ain't had no Christmas since that devil stole him. We'll have one this time, won't we?” The girl's wits were again alert. She must run for help. A minute to humor the old woman's delusion and she might return before any harm came to her. Jim had not moved a muscle. It was plain that he was beyond help. “Yes,” Mary answered cheerfully. “You fix the cake--and I'll get the wood to make a fire.” Nance laughed again. “We'll have the dinner all ready for him when he wakes, won't we?”