smiling. But bitter tears rolled down Despard's cheeks. Drawing his little sword from its sheath, he pricked the baby's heart till one red drop, the life-drop, stained the steel. The sick baby ceased to breathe.
"Despard, what have you done?" cried Goldilocks, seizing his arm.
"I know not," said the boy; "but as my heart moves me, so must I do."
Hearing voices, the mother awoke, and, as her habit was, turned at once to the cradle. The baby lay there beautiful and still; the pinched look gone, and its furrowed brow smoothed into a baby's smile. The mother wept bitterly.
"Ah, little stranger," said she, turning to Despard, "I knew you when I let you in. Why did I open the door for you?"
"Poor mother," said the boy sorrowfully, "if you had not opened the door, I must have come in by the window."
