The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1853-09-22
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thing know little more about man.
kind than that"
You must do, as you will, but all
will come to light, some day, if we keep
ever so close. I feel as certain of it, as
l do that Pm alive"
"There is but one way it can come to
light, unless you tell of it."
And what is that 20
Elsie Carson, the child's old nurse
If the secret is betrayed, she will be the
one that will do it."
In this Dilling judged rightly. They
lived remote from neighbors, and the
changes which take place in early in
fancy, are so rapid and decided, that a
few weeks were sufficient to put it be-
yond the power of a casual caller to
decide which of the children belonged Ia
Mrs. Dilling. But the four blood-red
spots, on the back of the little Alfred's
neck, could not have escaped the notice
of his old nurse, Elsie Carson, and by
these she could at any time identify him.
Had not Dilling feared the consequences,
he would not have hesitated to apply
the cautery, or even the knife, to remove
what might prove witness against him.
In less than half-an-hour after the
foregoing conversation, there was rap
at the door. 1t was opened, and she,
above whom all others they most dread
ed to see, Elsie Carson, entered the
room. Dilling turned pale, but had
the power to suppress all other sign of
agitation. Mrs. DilIing was less sue
cessful. She trembled violently, and
had hardly enough command over her
voice to ask the unwelcome visitor to be
seated.
give heard that the baby you took
to nurse, has met with dreadful acci-
dent" said she.
Mrs. Dilling made no answer.
"Mr. Templeton took it away from
me-" she resumed, "under pretense
that couldn't be trusted, while he was
gone over the sea. But 1 have no ill
will against the poor little thing, and
have come on purpose to see it."
He's asleep, now," said Mrs. Dill
ing.
Well, [ won't wake him. I only
want to see the ugly scar on his cheek.
And his poor little hand-they say twas
burnt almost to crisp. That's your
own baby, l suppose you have in your
arms. He's an uncommon nice-looking
child"
Without further parley, Elsie bent
over the cradle, and removed the thin
muslin handkerchief, which partly yelled
the child's face, as he slept.
That is a bad-looking scar" she
exclaimed, " and his hand is all crump-
ed up. l guess if Mr.. Templeton had
left his idol with me, it wouldn't have
come off worse than it has. And he's
altered dreadful sight every way. 1
wonder if the red spots on the back of
his neck are as bright as ever 2"
Don't wake him." said Dilliup.
starting quickly forward, as she made a
motion to raise the child's head from the
pillow. "Don't wake him. The spots
you speak of are faded-quite gone
amt they'" appealing to his wife.
81 believe-I rather think they are -
said she family.
They are? Well, couldn't have
believed it, if you hadn't both of YOU
told me so. As 1 said before, what an
uncommon nice child yours is, Mrs
Dilling. He looks as he belonged to
gentle folks, if he has got coarse frock
on )" and without turning her head, she
threw furtive glance towards Dillinp
and then fixed her eyes full upon the
troubled countenance of his wife.
Mrs. Dilling, though she did not raise
her own eyes, felt that the keen glance
of Elsie was fastened upon her, and she
also felt that the secret no longer rested
upon herself and husband. Neither of
them spoke for sometime. Elsie spoke
first, and said she was in want of money
Mr.. Dilling, it might be, would let her
have some, for Mr.. Templeton, no
doubt, paid literally for taking care of
the child. 1t was the same as taking
the bread from her mouth, when he took
the child away from her. But be had