Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it. " The lad made no answer, but left the room. Such was the simple code that displayed itself in all his thoughts. ‘Don’t rightly know how you make that out, you being a French spy and a prisoner and all.
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