that there was but one way into the house, and that was by the very
lip of the water-but.

Clare woke up suddenly--at a sound which all his life would wake him
from the deepest slumber: he thought he heard the whimpering of a
child. The baby was fast asleep. Instantly he thought of Tommy. He
seemed to see him shut out in the night, and knew at once how it was
with him: he had gone out without thinking how he was to get back, and
dared not go near the water-but! He jumped out of bed, put on his
shoes, and in a minute or two was over the wall and walking along the
lane outside of it, to find the deserter.

The moon was not up, and the night was dark, yet he had not looked
long before he came upon him, as near the house as he could get,
crouching against the wall.

"Tommy!" said Clare softly.

Tommy did not reply. The fear of the water-but was upon him--a fear
darker than the night, an evil worse than hunger or cold--and Clare
and the water-but were one.

"You needn't think to hide, Tommy; I see you, you bad boy!" whispered
Clare. "After all I said, you ran away and left the baby to the rats!
They've been biting her horribly--one at least has. You can stay away
as long as you like now; I've got a better nurse. Good-night!" Tommy
gave a great howl.

"Hold your tongue, you rascal!" cried Clare, still in a
whisper. "You'll let the police know where we are!"