" And she pushed the poor distraught creature down on a pile
of shattered woodwork. "Don't be frightened," she added reassuringly.
"I feel certain he's quite safe."
She disappeared into the throng, and after searching for a while came
face to face with her fellow traveller, carrying a chubby, red-coated
little boy in his arms. He stopped abruptly.
"What in the world are you doing?" he demanded angrily. "You've no
business here. Go back--you'll only see some ghastly sights if you come,
and you can't help. Why didn't you stay where I told you to?"
But Diana paid no heed.
"I want that child," she said eagerly, holding out her arms. "The
mother's nearly out of her mind--she thinks he's killed, and I told her
I'd go and look for him."
"Is this the child? . . . All right, then, I'll carry him along for you.
Where did you leave his mother?"
Diana led the way to where the woman was sitting, still rocking herself
to and fro in dumb misery. At the sight of the child she leapt up and
clutched him in her arms, half crazy with joy and gratitude, and a few
sympathetic tears stole down Diana's cheeks as she and her fellow-helper
moved away, leaving the mother and child together.
The man beside her drew her arm brusquely within his.
"You're not going near that--that hell again. Do you hear?" he said
harshly.
His face looked white and drawn; it was smeared with dirt, and his
clothes were torn and dishevelled.
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