"His writing," she muttered. "Oh, I must be going crazy!"
She read the page, retreated backward, and fell into a chair, while the letter fluttered slowly to the floor. She understood the contents, but had wept so much during the past days, that no tears were left; even joy could not revivify the wasted fount.
"What is the matter, Mrs. Allen?" exclaimed the officer, frightened by her appearance. "Don't look so; don't now; it skeers a fellow!"
She pointed to the letter.
"Read it to me," she whispered; "read it, I say; maybe I shall believe it then."
The man picked up the sheet, and spelled out the tidings as well as his astonishment and Rice's crabbed writing would permit.
"My son is alive," muttered the woman. "God has not altogether forsaken me!"
"Alive!" repeated the officer; "gone another voyage, and sent these two here."
Paul had crept close to Jube, and slipped his slender fingers into the broad palm of his trusty companion, startled by the scene.
"You came from my son?" said the woman, looking earnestly at them.