“While living in the cave, I am told that I was continually on the watch against robbers; which proves conclusively, I think, that people of that calling preyed upon me either before or after I left the hospital.
“Mr. Mortimer, as far as I can make it out, this is my story. It is not much, but I have made the best of it.” The next day Mr. Lawrence and his nephew set out for home. The long-lost man had, at length, after an absence of ten years, returned.
He lived with his brother, and for a few weeks, did nothing. Ten years in a cave had undermined his health, but as soon as his constitution regained its natural vigor, he went into business on his own account. At forty he found himself penniless, and obliged to begin life anew; ten years were as though they had not been, and he had summarily got rid of a fortune.
He was of a cheerful and hopeful disposition, and did not grieve about this; still, he could not help thinking what misery would have been spared if he had not trusted himself implicitly to a villain.
For the present Uncle Dick must sink into oblivion. He will be resuscitated, however, at the proper time.
Will was received by his parents with open arms. He had behaved nobly; he was a little hero. All the praise must be given to him, of course. Had he not rescued his uncle, alone and unaided? Had he not done all in his power to help that uncle when he lay helpless in his cave? Had he not stayed by him and tended him? Had he not explored the horrible place known as the Demons Cave? He had; he had done all this; and yet come off without a scratch!
Of course, Henry meant well, but he had no hand in rescuing Uncle Dick—he had not even entered the cave. Henry was a good, a manly little fellow, but in that affair he had been only a figure-head.
Will found that Stephen was recovering fast. His school-fellows crowded round him and listened eagerly while he dilated on his cousin’s and his own exploits. Now that the affair was happily over, he delighted in telling them about his “adventures” in the cave, and Marmaduke, especially, delighted in hearing them. To him, Henry was a mighty hero.
The affair with Stephen sobered the others for a time, and when the poor boy again appeared among them, nothing they could do for him was left undone. He was a martyr in their eyes, and they willingly left off their own sports to talk to him. Under these kind attentions, what wonder is it that the boy soon recovered his health, strength, and spirits?
The whole tribe of heroes kept clear of tricks and misdeeds till the following summer; but Will, of course, committed his diverting little blunders daily. But it would be foolish to chronicle them.