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Stanton now be standing before his brother chess-players, and, so much attention has the affair attracted, before the world, had he been fairly beaten, like Professor Anderssen! His reputation as a chess-player would have suffered no diminution by such a result of an encounter with Mr.
If God is willing we shall be saved in one way or another." So they again took up their flight through the wilderness, taking with them a half-dozen of the Mosulas to carry provisions and the tents that Anderssen had smuggled aboard the small boat in preparation for the attempted escape.
At the close of each day's march Anderssen saw to the erection of a comfortable shelter for Jane and the child. Her tent was always pitched in the most favourable location. The thorn boma round it was the strongest and most impregnable that the Mosula could construct.
"Not this one," replied Jane dully. "The other. Where is the other? There must have been two. I did not know about this one." "There vasn't no other kid. Ay tank this ban yours. Ay am very sorry." Anderssen fidgeted about, standing first on one foot and then upon the other. It was perfectly evident to Jane that he was honest in his protestations of ignorance of the true identity of the child.
When he had gone, Sven Anderssen turned toward Lady Greystoke the idiotic expression that had masked his thoughts had fallen away, and in its place was one of craft and cunning. "Hay tank Ay ban a fool," he said. "Hay ben the fool. Ay savvy Franch." Jane Clayton looked at him in surprise. "You understood all that he said, then?" Anderssen grinned. "You bat," he said.
It was this thought more than any other that had sent her mother's heart out to the innocent babe, while still she suffered from disappointment that she had been deceived in its identity. "Have you no idea whose child this is?" she asked Anderssen. The man shook his head. "Not now," he said. "If he ain't ban your kid, Ay don' know whose kid he do ban. Rokoff said it was yours.
Anderssen knew what the outcome must be, but he had not the heart to tell Jane Clayton the truth, for he had seen that the young woman had come to love the child almost as passionately as though it had been her own flesh and blood.
As she was thinking of these things the while she debated the wisdom of uncovering the baby's face, there came a little grunt from the wee bundle in her lap, and then a gurgling coo that set her heart in raptures. The baby was awake! Now she might feast her eyes upon him. Quickly she snatched the blanket from before the infant's face; Anderssen was looking at her as she did so.
The sun was shining brightly now, and though the baby still slept, Jane could scarce restrain her impatient desire to have at least a brief glance at the beloved face. The natives had withdrawn at a command from their chief, who now stood talking with Anderssen, a little apart from her.
Her one thought was to find some one who could help her some woman who had had children of her own and with the thought came recollection of the friendly village of which Anderssen had spoken. If she could but reach it in time! There was no time to be lost. Like a startled antelope she turned and fled up the trail in the direction Anderssen had indicated.
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