When, after a few more words, they went back into the cottage again, they found Emily Tracy sitting by the boy's bedside, and holding his hand in hers, with the little face turned sparkling up to her beautiful countenance, while with a smile at his eagerness she told him some childish story, to engage his attention during the time that Mr. Woodyard was employed in examining his spine. The gipsey woman gazed at the two for a moment in silence; then, creeping up to the young lady's side, she knelt down, and, with her favourite mode of expressing thankfulness, kissed her hand. "I am sorry I said what I did this morning," she whispered. "May God avert it!"
Emily started, and gazed on her earnestly. She had not suffered the woman's angry words of the morning to weigh upon her mind in the least. She had regarded them merely as a burst of impotent rage, and never fancied that Sally Stanley had attached any importance to them herself. But what she now said had a totally different effect. Emily saw by her look and manner that the woman really believed in the dark prophecy she had uttered; and there is something in strong conviction which carries weight with it to others, as well as to those who feel it. Emily was troubled, and for an instant did not reply. At length she said, sweetly, "Never mind, my good woman. Forget it, as I shall do. But do not give way to anger again towards those who have no intention of offending you. I trust your little boy will soon be well; and I am sure my uncle will reward him for so bravely seeking to defend him at the risk of his own life."
"God bless you, and him too!" said the gipsey woman. "There is no fear of my boy. He will do well enough. I knew he would meet with some harm when he went out in the morning; but I knew too that it would not be death, and would end in his good. So I only warned him to be careful, and let him go."
All the woman's words were painful to Emily Tracy; for there is a germ of superstition in every heart; and, in spite of good sense and every effort of reason, a dull sort of apprehension sprang up in her bosom regarding the bitter announcement which had been made as to her future fate. Its very improbability--its want of all likelihood in her station and position, seemed but to render more strange the woman's evident belief that such an event as her marriage with a felon would actually take place. That the very idea should enter into her mind had something of the marvellous in it, and easily excited those feelings of wonder which are strongly akin to superstition.