He gave a little whine, and Huldah looked up at him.  “Oh, Dick, what can I do?  Mrs. Perry will be so frightened there alone, and she’ll be troubling about us so, and—­and there’s Miss Rose too”—­more tears trickled down Huldah’s cheeks,—­“yet I can’t go and leave Aunt Emma all alone now, with the van and Charlie to look after, and Uncle Tom in jail.  Oh, what can I do? what can I do!”

Dick was puzzled too, but at that moment a fresh burst of screams burst on her ears, terrible, noisy screams, and bitter cries and shoutings.  Tom Smith was being led away by the constable, and his wife had flung herself on the ground in hysterics, real or feigned.

Huldah crept back to the hedge and peered through.  Her heart was heavy as lead.  Her body ached with the blows she had received the night before, and her head throbbed painfully too, but these were as nothing compared with the pain of her poor little aching disappointed heart.  On the other side of the hedge she saw her aunt lying on the ground, sobbing, screaming, and beating the ground with her fists.

Huldah crept back through the hedge, and up to her side.  “Aunt Emma, don’t take on like that,” she said, gently, trying to comfort her.  “He’ll be back soon.  They won’t do anything to him, for certain.”  She little dreamed how black the case was against him.

But the sight of the girl seemed to change her aunt’s overwhelming grief to sudden and violent anger against herself.  Springing to her feet, she snatched the heavy whip from the van, and brought it down with all the force of which she was capable across Huldah’s shoulders.

“It’s all your fault!” she screamed, “it’s all your fault!  It was only to get hold of you that he offered the fellow the money, and if you hadn’t run away he’d never have had to do it.  ’Tis all your fault he’s took, and I’ll make you smart for it, my lady!” and seizing the poor shrinking, frightened child, she beat her until her arm dropped to her side exhausted.

“Stop that!” cried a stern voice, loudly.  Huldah and her aunt fell back, shocked and startled by the sight of another policeman close to them.  In the noise and excitement they had not heard anyone approaching.  “Give me that whip.”

Huldah gave one terrified glance at the man in blue, and fell fainting at his feet.

Emma Smith handed over the whip meekly enough.  She was thoroughly scared now, for she never doubted that Huldah was dead, and that the policeman would declare that she had killed the child.  In her terror for herself, her anxiety about her husband was forgotten.  She began to wail and sob and beg forgiveness.  She threw herself on the ground, calling loudly to Huldah to open her eyes and get up.  She tried coaxings and all sorts of promises, but the policeman only thrust her aside.

“Go and get some cold water,” he said, sternly.

She crept away meekly, and presently brought back a little drop in a broth basin.  “That’s all there is,” she said, apologetically.  It was very little, but with it the big man bathed the child’s face and hands, and dabbed her lips and her brow.