And now, like a visible response to his silent but seemingly
resistless longing, a boat was rapidly pushed away from the larger
craft, and the swift flash and fall of the oars kept time to the
pulsing in the old man's breast. Again ensued that inglorious conflict
between self-respecting sobriety of demeanour and long suppressed
emotion, which ended only when the boat grated on the sand, and a
blonde stalwart youth leaped ashore. The old man fell upon his neck
with tears and murmured ejaculations of gratitude and welcome; but
young impatient hands pushed him not ungently aside, and a youthful
voice, high and intense from anxiety, urgently exclaimed:
"My mother! How is my mother?"
"She yet breathes, thank God. She has been longing for your coming as
a suffering saint longs for heaven. She must see you before she dies!"
The young man turned a little aside with down-bent head. His positive
blue eyes looked almost feverishly bright; and the lip, on which he
had unconsciously bitten hard, now released from pressure, quivered
perceptibly; but with the unwillingness or inability of youth to admit
the inevitableness of a great grief he burst forth with:
"Is that all you have to say to me?" And then, as his keen eye noticed
the tears still undried upon the cheeks of the old man, he sighed
heavily.
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