The meal finished, the old woman kissed the child, and issued from the hut. All her movements were in accordance with our anticipation, and this being so, a certain plan we had agreed upon was immediately acted upon. Ronald and his uncle remained behind, the intention being that they should make an endeavor to get into conversation with either the sick man or the child, or with both, and to extract from them some information of Mr. Nisbet's establishment which might assist our operations. Rivers and I played our part in the plan by following Mme. Bernstein. Midway between the hut and Mr. Nisbet's house Rivers nudged me, and we quickened our steps. Hearing the sound the old woman stopped, and we also stopped. After listening a moment or two she fancied she was deceived, and she hobbled on again, we following with rapid steps. Again she paused, and gave a scream as we came close to her. Putting his hand on her shoulder, Rivers said: "Do you speak English, Mme. Bernstein?" "Yes, a little," she replied, trembling in every limb. "Do not hurt me--I am an old woman; I have no money." "You speak English very well," said Rivers. "We will not harm you. It is only that we wish to have a word with you. We do not want money; we have money to give, if you would like to earn it. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir, I understand that you will not hurt an old woman, and that you have money to give." I ought here to explain that the English Mme. Bernstein spoke was by no means so clear and grammatical as I set it down, but I find myself unable to reproduce her peculiar method and idioms, and consider it best, therefore, to put what she said plainly before the reader. We understood each other, and that was the main point. "But it must be earned. Do not tremble so; we are not robbers; we are officers of the law. What have you under that cloth? A basin, empty. You took it from the house full. You can be punished for that, Mme. Bernstein. The master did not give you the food, he did not give you the wine. You stole them, Mme. Bernstein." Overcome with terror she fell upon her knees, and implored us to spare her; she had taken the food to save a little child from starvation; she had never done it before---- Rivers interrupted her. "You do it every night, madame." Which plunged her into deeper despair. Still keeping her sensible that she was in our power, and that we would have her punished if she did not do as we bade her, Rivers succeeded in pacifying her to some extent. "There are four of us," he said, when she rose from the ground; "two are here, two are with your brother and his child, who without our aid will starve if you are put in prison or can no longer rob your master of food. It is with you, madame; you can save or ruin them, you can save or ruin yourself." "What is it that I shall do?" she quavered. "Tell me, and I will do it."