twelve o’clock
The frosty ground creaked beneath her feet , and she trembled at the sound ; every quaking leaf and fluttering shadow sent the blood backward to her heart , and quickened her footsteps . She wondered within herself at the strength that seemed to be come upon her ; for she felt the weight of her boy as if it had been a feather , and every flutter of fear seemed to increase the supernatural power that bore her on , while from her pale lips burst forth , in frequent ejaculations , the prayer to a Friend above -- `` Lord , help ! Lord , save me ! '' If it were _ your _ Harry , mother , or your Willie , that were going to be torn from you by a brutal trader , tomorrow morning , -- if you had seen the man , and heard that the papers were signed and delivered , and you had only from twelve o'clock till morning to make good your escape , -- how fast could _ you _ walk ? How many miles could you make in those few brief hours , with the darling at your bosom , -- the little sleepy head on your shoulder , -- the small , soft arms trustingly holding on to your neck ? For the child slept . At first , the novelty and alarm kept him waking ; but his mother so hurriedly repressed every breath or sound , and so assured him that if he were only still she would certainly save him , that he clung quietly round her neck , only asking , as he found himself sinking to sleep , `` Mother , I do n't need to keep awake , do I ? ''