master's former sternness to erupt. The baby was leaving the mother and father. That could not be right. Such a decision about a family should never be made by the wife. This was unfathomable. The balance of things was all askew. The Reverend needed to set her straight. It was not too late to do so. There was still time to be reunited with their child this very night. If Ahcho had known that this was his mistress's reckless plan, he would not have hesitated to find the Reverend right away.
But, much to Ahcho's dismay, the Reverend merely put one hand into his pants pocket while the other remained gripped over the round shape in the pouch with the twin golden dragons at his hip. He fid dled with the strings that closed the bag and with the red cloth from which it hung.
"Did you hear me?" she repeated.
The Reverend nodded but still did not speak.
"What on earth is in that infernal pouch that swings at your side?" she asked. "You clutch it as if it were the Holy Grail itself. Let me see it!"
The Reverend yanked the pouch upward and tucked it inside his coat. He buttoned the few sagging buttons as quickly as he could with trembling fingers. "It is something," he said.
"I know it is something," Mistress Grace said. "You have carried it with you ever since our son was stolen from us. What is in that sack embroidered with the twin golden dragons, Reverend?"
He patted at the thing behind the worn fabric of his suit jacket and bit his bottom lip. "Ahcho, help me," he stuttered and lifted a finger to his lips to suggest that he wished their secret to be kept. "I'm not thinking clearly enough to explain."
It pained Ahcho to see his master's plaintive expression, and he wanted to help the hungry and confused man. Also, Ahcho didn't like the mistress's insolent tone, but he supposed that was how things were with young women these days. So he sucked in his breath between clenched teeth, looked at his feet, and began.
"Mrs. Watson, on that tragic day, which I wish barely to mention, we found something left behind by the kidnappers. The Reverend, of course, is not a man of primitive superstition, but he does somehow believe that carrying this object with him at all times will help him in his search to find his son."
The Reverend nodded his approval at this explanation, and Ahcho felt he had done his duty to his master as best as he could under these trying circumstances.
Mistress Grace frowned. "But what is it, exactly? I must know."
The Reverend's whole body vibrated, and he swung his head wildly from side to side. Then he began to scratch his legs again, next his arms, and Ahcho thought he could feel his master's misery. The man needed a bath, a good meal, and sleep to restore his nerves and mind.
"I'm afraid it would not be wise for you to know, Mistress. It is better if the object stays quietly with the Reverend. We don't need to concern ourselves with such silly superstitions, am I right?" Ahcho tried. "We Christians don't believe in old wives' tales. We are people of Jesus, not country types who see witches flying about after dark and spit over our shoulders when we pass wells and spin around three times before planting. We believe nothing of the sort."
The Reverend and Mrs. Watson bobbed their heads, as if weighing the validity of each custom.
"Come," Ahcho said with more force than he had ever used in speaking to either of them before. "I insist. We go now!"
"Such a good man, Ahcho," the Reverend said. "Good to the core."
The mistress nodded in agreement, and the couple seemed warmly united in this one thing. But still the Reverend did not budge from the center of the dimly lit room.
Mistress Grace turned to her husband and quietly asked, "Have you anything to say about my plan? It's hard for me to imagine that you feel nothing for our daughter."
"My darling," the Reverend said and moved closer to her. He pushed a lock of dusty hair from her brow. "It is because I love our child dearly that I trust you to know what is best. I don't know much anymore about anything. I'm in a miserable state. Really, I know so very little and never did." These last words were spoken with great sin cerity.
Ahcho let out a tsking sound of the