Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. " "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. Fortunately, the window was not far from the ground; so opening it gently, he dropped into a backyard, and from thence got into the street. So far she had the utmost difficulty in getting on to that vitally important matter. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. It was late before Jonathan ventured to his own house, where he remained up all night, and kept his janizaries and other assistants well armed. In the beginning it was a dictionary. And there," he added, placing in his hands a heavy bag of money, and a pocketbook, "is a sum little short of fifteen thousand pounds.
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