No doubt who she was. No doubt whose cold gray eyes were
fixed on them. Cecile and Maurice, huddling close together, gazed
silently. Aunt Lydia came on. She looked at the little pair, but when
she came up to them, passed on without a word or sign of apparent
recognition.
"Oh! come home, Cecile, come home," said Maurice.
They were now in the street where the Moseleys lived, and as they
turned in at the door, Cecile looked round. Lydia Purcell was
standing at the corner and watching them.
CHAPTER X.
STARTING ON THE GREAT JOURNEY.
Cecile and Maurice ran quickly upstairs, pulled the rope with a
will, and got into the Moseleys' attic.
"We are safe now," said the little boy, who had not seen Lydia
watching them from the street corner.
Cecile, panting after her rapid run, and with her hand pressed to
her heart, stood quiet for a moment, then she darted into their snug
little attic bedroom, shut the door, and fell on her knees.
"Lord Jesus," she said aloud, "wicked Aunt Lydia Purcell has seen
us, and we must go away at once. Don't forget to guide me and Maurice
and Toby."
She said this little prayer in a trembling voice. She felt there was
not a moment to lose; any instant Aunt Lydia might arrive. She flung
the bedclothes off the bed, and thrusting her hand into a hole in the
mattress, pulled out the Russia-leather purse. Joined to its former
contents was now six shillings and sixpence in silver. This money was
the change over from Maurice's half sovereign.
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