These words were uttered in a tone of the most imperturbable self- possession, and perfectly staggered poor Amos by their amazing effrontery.  But all was now plain enough to him.  This needy adventurer, who had entangled poor Julia in his cruel meshes, and had deserted her for a time, was hard up for money; and, having found out that Amos had taken upon himself to provide for his children at present, had hit upon the scheme of withdrawing one of them from the cottage, as a way of extorting money from his brother-in-law.  It was also pretty clear that he was afraid to show himself openly, lest the officers of justice should lay hold of him and bring him to trial for some breach of the law.  He had, therefore, betaken himself to the expedient of hanging up the little boy's handkerchief on the way-post, being sure that persons would be out immediately in all directions searching for the child, and that some one of them would light upon the handkerchief with the letter in it, and would forward it to Amos without delay, as the young man would be sure to be informed of the loss as soon as the nurse discovered it, and would lose no time in making personally search for the missing child; and thus the writer's purpose would be answered without his having given any clew by which himself could be discovered and brought into trouble.  All this was now plainly unfolded to Amos. And what was he to do?  That the man before him was utterly selfish and unscrupulous, he had no doubt, and little good, he feared, could be done by appealing to the conscience or better feelings of one who could act deliberately as he had done.  Was he, then, to leave his little nephew in his father's hands, to be brought up to the stage--or, in other words, to certain ruin under the training of such a man?  The thought was not to be endured.  No, he must make the sacrifice.