you would have been provided for by my will.
What you would have taken from me then, you may take from me now. Come
to the boat."

A change passed over her face as I spoke; a vague doubt of me began
to show itself in her eyes. She drew back a little, without making any
reply.

"Come to the boat," I reiterated.

"It is too late." With that answer, she looked across the room at the
child, still waiting by the door. "Come, Elfie," she said, calling the
little creature by one of her favorite nicknames. "Come to bed."

I too looked at Elfie. Might she not, I asked myself, be made the
innocent means of forcing her mother to leave the house? Trusting to the
child's fearless character, and her eagerness to see the boat, I
suddenly opened the door. As I had anticipated, she instantly ran out.
The second door, leading into the square, I had not closed when I
entered the courtyard. In another moment Elfie was out in the square,
triumphing in her freedom. The shrill little voice broke the death-like
stillness of the place and hour, calling to me again and again to take
her to the boat.

I turned to Mrs. Van Brandt. The stratagem had succeeded. Elfie's mother
could hardly refuse to follow when Elfie led the way.

"Will you go with us?" I asked. "Or must I send the money back by the
child?"

Her eyes rested on me for a moment with a deepening expression of
distrust, then looked away again. She began to turn pale. "You are not
like yourself to-night," she said. Without a word more, she took her
hat and cloak and went out before me into the square. I followed her,
closing the doors behind me. She made an attempt to induce the child to
approach her. "Come, darling," she said, enticingly--"come and take my
hand."

But Elfie was not to be caught: she took to her heels, and answered from
a safe distance. "No," said the child; "you will take me back and put me
to bed." She retreated a little further, and held up the key: "I shall
go first," she cried, "and open the door."

She trotted off a few steps in the direction of the harbor, and waited
for what was to happen next. Her mother suddenly turned, and looked
close at me under the light of the stars.

"Are the sailors on board the boat?" she asked.

The question startled me. Had she any suspicion of my purpose? Had
my face warned her of lurking danger if she went to the boat? It was
impossible. The more likely motive for her inquiry was to find a new
excuse for not accompany