CHAPTER XV. Hetty, who had periods of lucid expression, put the thing for her from her pillow. " "Is she alive?" repeated the widow. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. "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. . There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed.
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