"I'm telling you the simple truth," replied the captain. "David Willis died quite suddenly yesterday."
She was silent for a moment, and appeared to be ruminating, although there was no expression save that of baffled anger on her great face. Comethup, glancing timidly up at her, saw that above the face, and under her bonnet of many colours, was a great mass of very beautiful snow-white hair. After a moment she spoke again, although her voice was scarcely any more gentle than before.
"Well, this is the last time I'll come on such a fool's errand as this," she exclaimed. "Here I've been wandering about since early morning, swearing at porters and wondering all the time why I ever started, and the very man I came to see has died before I could get to him. Why the devil couldn't he die next week, or a month ago, or any other time? Who are you, sir?" she asked, quite suddenly and fiercely, addressing the captain.
The captain presented himself with some formality, and she nodded at him in acknowledgment. The captain went on to state briefly that he was a friend of the dead man, and had come there that day chiefly on account of the child. She became alert and eager in an instant.
"Ah, I'd almost forgotten it. I heard there was a child. Where is he?--what is he?--how is he?--can't you speak, man?"
"He is beside you now, madam," said the captain, quietly.
She twisted Comethup round, and dropped her stick with a clatter, and took him by both shoulders. Comethup almost felt that the closed eyes could see him, so closely did she hold him for a moment and so still did she sit. Then, in the same abrupt fashion as before, she cried: "Well, can't you speak? What's your name, boy?"
She dropped her hands with startling suddenness from his shoulders and got up, and spread the hands out before her. She was shaking and trembling violently, and the corners of her mouth were twitching. "Who spoke?" she asked, and her voice had fallen almost to a whisper. "Whose voice was that?"
The captain wonderingly replied that it was the boy who had spoken. She passed her hand across her forehead once or twice, still trembling a little; it seemed as though she were trying to recall some old remembrance, to bring back something which had long since slipped away from her. Presently she sighed, then laughed nervously, and then frowned. "Give me my stick there," she said.