"I saw it done!" repeated Helmsley--"And I think it was rightly done! But--I saw Tom himself die of grief and madness--with his dead child in his arms--and _that!_--that broke something in my heart and brain and made me think God was cruel!" She bent over him, and arranged his pillows more comfortably. "I knew Tom,"--she said, presently, in a soft voice--"He was a wild creature, but very kind and good for all that. Some folks said he had been born a gentleman, and that a quarrel with his family had made him take to the gypsy life--but that's only a story. Anyway his little child--'kiddie'--as it used to be called, was the dearest little fellow in the world--so playful and affectionate!--I don't wonder Tom went mad when his one joy was killed! And you saw it all, you say?" "Yes, I saw it all!" And Helmsley, with a faint sigh half closed his eyes as he spoke--"I was tramping from Watchett,--and the motor passed me on my way, but I did not see the child run over. I meant to get a lodging at Blue Anchor--and while I was having my supper at the public house Tom came in,--and--and it was all over in less than fifteen minutes! A horrible sight--a horrible, horrible sight! I see it now!--I shall never forget it!" "Enough to make you ill, poor dear!" said Mary, gently--"Don't think of it now! Try and sleep a little. You mustn't talk too much. Poor Tom is dead and buried now, and his little child with him--God rest them both! It's better he should have died than lived without anyone to love him in the world." "That's true!" And opening his eyes widely again, he gazed full at her--"That's the worst fate of all--to live in the world without anyone to love you! Tell me--when I was delirious did I only talk of Tom o' the Gleam?" "That's the only person whose name you seemed to have on your mind,"--she answered, smiling a little--"But you _did_ make a great noise about money!" "Money?" he echoed--"I--I made a noise about money?" "Yes!" And her smile deepened--"Often at night you quite startled me by shouting 'Money! Money!' I'm sure you've wanted it very badly!" He moved restlessly and avoided her gaze. Presently he asked querulously: "Where is my old vest with all my papers?" "It's just where I put it the night you came,"--she answered--"I haven't touched it. Don't you remember you told me to keep the key of the cupboard which is right here close to your bed? I've got it quite safe." He turned his head round on the pillow and looked at her with a sudden smile. "Thank you! You are very kind to me, Mary! But you must let me work off all I owe you as soon as I'm well." She put one finger meditatively on her lips and surveyed him with a whimsically indulgent air. "Let you work it off? Well, I don't mind that at all! But a minute ago you were saying you must get up and go on the tramp again. Now, if you want to work for me, you must stay----"