His rosy mouth was half open, his fat little
hands thrown out over the bed-clothes, and a smile like a sunbeam upon
his face.
'My baby, my sweet-one,' said Eliza, 'they have sold you. But mother
will save you yet!'
She did not cry. She was too sad and sorrowful for that. Taking a piece
of paper and a pencil, she wrote quickly.
[Illustration]
'Oh, missis! dear missis! don't think me ungrateful--don't think hard of
me, anyway! I heard all you and master said to-night. I am going to try
to save my boy--you will not blame me I God bless and reward you for all
your kindness!'
Eliza was going to run away.
She gathered a few of Harry's clothes into a bundle, put on her hat and
jacket, and went to wake him.
Poor Harry was rather frightened at being waked in the middle of the
night, and at seeing his mother bending over him, with her hat and
jacket on.
'What is the matter, mother?' he said beginning to cry.
[Illustration]
'Hush,' she said, 'Harry mustn't cry or speak aloud, or they will hear
us. A wicked man was coming to take little Harry away from his mother,
and carry him 'way off in the dark. But mother won't let him. She's
going to put on her little boy's cap and coat, and run off with him, so
the ugly man can't catch him.'
Harry stopped crying at once, and was good and quiet as a little mouse,
while his mother dressed him.
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