Hannah had asked for "a morning out;" a request which greatly amazed her temporary mistress, Mrs. Rush, inasmuch as the old woman had no friends or acquaintances in the city, and was possessed of a wholesome dread of the snares and pitfalls with which she believed it abounded, and even when out with her charge would never go without an escort beyond the park on which Colonel Rush's house fronted and whence she could keep it in view.

But permission, of course, was granted, and Hannah, after ascertaining that a banker's office was the proper place to exchange her precious gold, sallied forth with it, having finally resolved to sacrifice it for Percy's relief without further delay, as Easter was drawing near and the time of reprieve was coming to a close.

It would take too long to tell of the trials and tribulations she encountered on her way to her destination. She consulted every single policeman she met, and then had so little confidence in their directions and advice that she still felt herself hopelessly bewildered and at sea in the business streets of the great city; while whenever she was obliged to cross among the trucks, express-wagons and other vehicles, she felt as if there would be an immediate necessity for the epitaph. As may be supposed, she afforded no little sport to the guardians of the peace, but they were, on the whole, kind and considerate to her and often passed her on from one to another.

But at length, unshielded for the time by any such friendly protection, she stood at the corner of the greatest and most thronged thoroughfare and one almost equally crowded which intersected it, and vainly strove to cross. The policeman on duty there was for the moment engaged with a lost child and had no eyes for her.

She made several frantic dives forward; but the confusion of wheels, horses' heads and shouting drivers speedily drove her back to the sidewalk after each fresh essay; and she was beginning to be in despair when she felt herself spasmodically seized by the arm, and a terrified voice said in her ear—no, not in her ear, for Hannah's ear was far above the diminutive person who had clutched her, and whom she turned to face,—

"Don't! don't! You'll be run over—yes, over—over indeed! Wait for the policeman—yes, policeman—'liceman, indeed!"

Hannah's eyes fell upon a very small old lady, attired in a quaint, old-fashioned costume, with little corkscrew curls surrounding her face, and carrying a good-sized leather satchel, while her every movement and word betrayed a timid, nervous, excitable temperament.

"Don't, don't!" she reiterated, "you'll be crushed—yes, crushed, indeed, crushed; that horse's head touched you, head—indeed—yes, head. What a place this city is—city, indeed, yes, city. Why did I come back to it, back, yes, back?"

There are some who may recognize this old lady, but to Hannah she was an utter stranger, and she gazed upon her in surprise. She was generally very offish and reserved with strangers, but now a common misery made her have a fellow-feeling for the little oddity, and she responded graciously.

Seizing the hand of the woman, whom she could almost have put into her pocket, she drew it through her arm, and said:

"Ye may well say it; what a place hindeed! But hover I must go some ow, so come on, ma'am. If so be we're sent to heternity, we'll go together, an' I'll see you safe through it."

But, apparently, the prospect of going to eternity at such short notice and under such doubtful protection was not pleasing to Miss Trevor, and she shrank back from the thronging dangers before her.

But now came the policeman and escorted the two women, both large and small, through the terrors which had beset them, landing them safely on the other side of the street.

Hannah's eye had recognized the lady even beneath Miss Trevor's shabby black dress and strange manner, and she now turned to her with a respectful:

"Which way are you bound, ma'am? If so be your way's mine, we might 'old on together. There seems to be pretty much men around 'ere, an' I never did take much stock in men. Leastway honly in one or two," with an appreciative remembrance of Colonel Rush and her young master, Russell Neville.

"I'm going to the banker's—yes—banker's—banker's—yes, going," answered Miss Trevor, still flustered and nervous, and forgetting, in the distractions of the crowd, her usually besetting terror that every one who addressed her or looked at her in the street was actuated by purposes of robbery, and speaking as if there were but one banker in the great city.

But Hannah was wiser.

"There be a lot of 'em I 'ear," she said, "an' I don't know which is the best of 'em. What do you say, ma'am? Who be you goin' to, by your leave?"

"To Mr. Powers," answered Miss Trevor. "Powers, yes, Powers. A good man and a kind—yes, man, indeed, man."

"Is he the kind of a one—a banker, I mean," said Hannah, "that would give you a note for gold—golden guineas?"

Miss Trevor looked at her suspiciously for one moment. Was this a trap? Was this friendly person, who was seemingly as much at sea as she was herself in this wilderness of business streets and crowd of business men, some swindler in petticoats, some decoy who would lead her where she might be robbed of all she had about her that was valuable, of the really precious contents of that shabby, worn satchel? The bare idea of such a thing was enough to lend wings of terror to Miss Trevor's feet; and she was about to dart away from Hannah's side when the hand of the latter in its turn arrested her, giving, if possible, new force to the fears of the old lady.

"What did I come for?" she ejaculated, "yes, come. I wish I was back in Sylvandale—yes, Sylvandale, indeed, 'dale."

"Sylvandale!"

The name had a familiar—since the events of the last few days, an unpleasantly familiar sound to Hannah, and she gave a little start.

"Sylvandale," she repeated; "do you know Sylvandale?"

But again her inquiry only provoked increased alarm in the breast of Miss Trevor. She had heard of swindlers pretending to know of places and people belonging to those whom they would victimize; and had not Hannah's hold upon her been firm she would have wrenched herself free and fled.

Hannah repeated her question in a rather different form and with an addition.

"Do you come from Sylvandale? And you maybe know Dr. Leacraft's school? An' you maybe 'ave seen my boy, Master Percy Neville, my boy that I nursed?"

Now it so happened that Miss Trevor had seen and marked Percy Neville, and moreover that she had a very exalted opinion of the young scapegrace. For she did live in Sylvandale, with a nephew who had some years since persuaded her to give up teaching in the city in Miss Ashton's and other schools, and to come to him and let him care for her in her old age. The home she had gladly accepted; but she possessed a spirit of independence, and insisted on giving such lessons as she could procure. She had been fairly successful in this, and had laid by quite a little sum, which she intended to leave to this kind nephew. But while this money was in her own keeping, it was a burden and a care to her, for she lived in constant dread of robbers and of losing her little savings; therefore she had come to the city to place it in safe keeping. Belle Powers had been her favorite pupil while she taught at Miss Ashton's, the child having a remarkable talent for drawing and making the most of the instruction she received. Belle thought so much of her queer little teacher that she had interested her doting father in the old lady, and he had performed two or three small acts of kindness for her which her grateful heart had never forgotten. Consequently she credited Mr. Powers and Belle with every known virtue, and believed that she could not possibly place her savings in any safer place than the hands of that gentleman; and perhaps she was not far wrong.

But on her way to the city and to Mr. Powers' office she had been warily on her guard for snares and pitfalls tending swindlerwise, until she had fallen into the hands of Hannah. But her unworthy suspicions of that good person were speedily put to flight by the mention of Percy Neville's name.

Coming up the village street of Sylvandale one day, she had been chased by a flock of geese, and as she was hurrying along as fast as her age and infirmities permitted—anything in the shape of dignity she had cast to the winds before such foes—she encountered some of Dr. Leacraft's scholars returning from an afternoon ramble. Most of them had laughed at the predicament of the terrified old lady, who certainly presented a ridiculous sight; but Percy, pitying her plight, and with a strongly chivalrous streak in his nature, had made a furious onslaught on the geese, and presently turned the pursuers into the pursued. Then he had picked up the ubiquitous satchel which Miss Trevor had dropped in her flight, attempted to straighten her bonnet which was all awry—she thought none the less of him because his awkward efforts left it rather worse than before—and escorted her quite beyond the reach of the hissing, long-necked enemy, who seemed inclined to renew the attack were his protection removed and the coast clear.

From this time Percy Neville was a hero and a young knight sans peur et sans reproche with Miss Trevor. She had inquired his name, and maintained that it just suited him, and her wits had been constantly at work all winter to devise such small gifts and treats for him as she was able to procure. Many a basket of nuts and apples, many a loaf of gingerbread, or other nice home-made dainty, had found its way into Percy's hands, and had met with ready acceptance and been heartily enjoyed by the schoolboy appetites of himself and his companions. Percy always exchanged a cheery nod and smile with her when he met her, or a pleasant word or two if he encountered her in the village store or elsewhere.

And now she heard his name in terms of proprietorship and tenderness from this woman who claimed to be his nurse; and she was at once arrested in her attempt to shake her off.

"Master Percy Neville—Neville, indeed, Percy!" she exclaimed; "yes, yes—oh, yes—the dear boy! Those other geese were after me—yes, geese, indeed, chasing me down the sidewalk—yes, sidewalk, geese they were—geese—and he came, the dear boy—came and shoo-ed them away—shoo-ed them, yes, shoo-ed, indeed, shoo-ed."

And now she was quite ready to answer any and every question which Hannah might put to her, and, so far as she was able, to put her in the way of that which she was seeking. She confided her own purpose to the old nurse, and Hannah was fain to tell her hers, at least so much as that she was anxious to convert her gold into a bank-note which she might send to Percy without exciting his suspicions as to whence it came. Of course she gave no hint of his wrong-doing, saying only that she wished him to have the money and that he should not know the donor.

But, jostled and pushed about by the passers-by hurrying on during the most busy time of the day, they could not talk at their ease there on the sidewalk; and presently Hannah proposed retiring within the shelter of the broad hallway of an imposing building, where the two old innocents sat themselves down on a flight of stone stairs and exchanged confidences. They exchanged more; for before the close of the conference Hannah's gold, or the greater part of it, was in Miss Trevor's satchel and a hundred-dollar note in Hannah's hands.

Hannah's arithmetic was much at fault, notwithstanding the information she had gained from Colonel Rush on the subject of her finances; and her unheard-of confidence in this utter stranger of an hour since was further strengthened when Miss Trevor, with her superior knowledge, made it clear to her that she was about to give her too much gold in exchange for the bank-note.

Moreover, the odd little drawing-teacher, whom Hannah afterwards, when some qualms as to her own prudence assailed her, characterized as "hevery hinch a lady if she was that queer you'd think she'd just hescaped the lunatic hasylum," removed another stumbling-block from the path of the latter. She offered, if Hannah desired it, to carry the money for Percy back to Sylvandale, and to see that it was safely given into his hands; thus delivering the faithful old nurse from her dilemma as to the means of conveying it to him. Having once lost some money through the mail, she had also lost all faith in that, and knowing nothing of the ways now afforded for sending it in safety, she had been in some perplexity over this. And, will it be believed? she committed it to Miss Trevor's keeping without other guarantee than her word that Percy should receive it without knowing whence it came. Hannah would readily have let the boy know that she had sent it, for she was not disposed to hide her light under a bushel; but she dared not, lest she should betray the dishonorable part she had played in reading his letter to Lena and so discovering the disgraceful secret. She was further satisfied, however, as to Miss Trevor's good faith, after she had, at her request, accompanied her to Mr. Powers' office. The name of Powers had not conveyed any especial meaning to Hannah, although she did know that one of Lena's classmates was named Belle Powers, and she had seen the little girl once or twice; but when she entered the gentleman's office and remembered that she had seen him at the Christmas party at Mr. Bradford's and afterwards at Colonel Rush's, she at once set the seal of her approval upon him as being "the friend of such gentry;" and when Mr. Powers received Miss Trevor with great respect and attention, and promised with many expressions of good will to carry out her wishes, she plumed herself upon her sagacity in so intuitively discovering the quality of the little old lady's "hinches." It is true that these were few in quantity, but Hannah believed that they were of the right material; nor was she far wrong.

But to make assurance doubly sure she stepped up to Mr. Powers at a moment when Miss Trevor, intent upon securing the lock of her satchel, had turned her back, and whispered to him:

"She's all right, isn't she, sir?"

"Oh, yes, yes; only a little odd, but quite herself; as sane as you are," answered the gentleman, supposing that Miss Trevor's manner had led Hannah to infer that she was insane.

"If she wasn't hall right I'd lose my buryin' and my moniment for nothing," said Hannah, almost in the same breath; and Mr. Powers stared at her, believing that she herself must be a candidate for the lunatic asylum. Hitherto he had not paid much attention to her, merely glancing at her as she came in, and supposing her to be Miss Trevor's attendant; but at this extraordinary speech he scrutinized her narrowly, wondering if she were quite in her right mind and if it were safe to let Miss Trevor go about under her guidance.

Having transacted her business, Miss Trevor asked Mr. Powers concerning Belle and some of her young friends whom she also taught. And then, to Hannah's dismay, she asked him if he could tell her anything of Mrs. Rush and her sister, Mrs. Stanton, names very familiar to Hannah, and which she was not pleased to hear at the present juncture. She would never have taken Miss Trevor into partial confidence, would never have entrusted her with the mission to Percy, had she known that the old lady was acquainted with members of the very family in whose service she was, with the uncle and aunt of the boy whom she was secretly striving to save from disgrace.

What should she do now? And here was Mr. Powers actually advising the old lady to go up and see Mrs. Rush and her late pupils if she had time to do so. Poor Hannah! she may almost be forgiven for the dishonorable way in which she had contrived to possess herself of Lena's letter, for the sake of her loyalty to and self-sacrifice for her nurslings. Her chief thought now was less for her money than for the risk of the discovery of Percy's secret by his relatives. She must be very careful to keep out of the way of any one coming to Colonel Rush's house, at least, for a day or two. She was in a very bad humor now, this old Hannah, and as dissatisfied with the turn matters had taken as but a short time since she had been well pleased. She quite resented Miss Trevor's acquaintance with Mrs. Rush and other friends of the Neville family, and her looks toward that lady were now so glum and ill-natured that Mr. Powers could not fail to notice them, and was more than ever beset by doubts as to her perfect sanity. They were a queer couple, he thought, to go wandering together through the distracting business streets.

When Hannah was worried she was cross, as has been seen; and now, being thus assailed with doubts as to the wisdom of the course she had pursued, she proved herself no agreeable companion, and laid aside the respectful tone and manner with which she had hitherto treated Miss Trevor, till the old lady began to feel uneasy in her turn, and her manner and speech became more queer, jerky, and confused than ever.

At last, when they reached the corner of the street, she grabbed the arm of a policeman and in her broken, incoherent way, begged to be put into a street car; and as one happened to be passing at the moment, the request was complied with and Miss Trevor borne away before Hannah had fairly realized that she had left her.

Poor Hannah! If she had been uneasy before, it may be imagined what a state of mind she was in now. She stood watching the retreating conveyance in a bewildered sort of way till it was almost lost to sight among the crowd of vehicles; and then, with some vague notion of pursuing Miss Trevor and demanding back her money, hailed another car and entered it.

But after she was seated, sober second thought came to her aid, and all the reasons she had before formed for trusting Miss Trevor, returned to her, till she once more rested satisfied that the means for Percy's rescue from the toils he had woven for himself were in safe hands.