Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. Ruth made a little gesture, of infinite pity; and this was quickly seized upon by the slant-eyed Chinese girl. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet. “Maternity,” she said, “has been our undoing. 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. A few seconds sufficed to clear the passage, through which it had previously cost him more than two hours to force his way.
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