" "Whom do you mean?" demanded Jackson. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window. Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. “I knew that you waited at the farmhouse. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. " So saying, she planted herself between Jack and the turnkey.
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