With something near to horror they found themselves thus confronted. But it must have been something that could show her to be Mary’s daughter. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. Her lips parted, but no words came. Her new husband had paid for a cadre of escorts back to Mantua. But all these hours, trying to teach the child wariness toward life, and the moment his back was turned, this! He was, perhaps, still dazed by the inner revelation—his own interest in Ruth. Then, though full of confidence, he half doubted his power of accomplishing his designs. A shudder rippled across his shoulders.
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