The castle's cleaning woman heard the knock on the door, a sound so loud that she anticipated the sheriff or some other town official. ... Slowly she opened the door, the slice of light from inside casting its lens on a small creature, a blanket partially obscuring a face, the body shaking so violently that the woman reached down, grasped the bundle, and dragged the small figure indoors, holding her tightly as she slammed the door with one foot. She heard the rush of heavy footsteps as someone ran toward the rear of the building, making thudlike sounds in the sod.

If it had not been for the child's physical appearance attesting to her need of immediate medical attention, the cleaning woman, a feisty, strong, and stocky woman, might have followed the footsteps to find that "dastardly person" who would leave a sick, trembling child out in the rain.

The child's little body continued its violent thrashing. Her face was contorted with pain, and she was as hot as a lit oven. The little girl's sweaty hands held a brown envelope ...