As he went clattering up the long avenue to the house, it seemed to him as though the birds of the air must have been at work; for there was his mother standing upon the steps to receive him, whilst Rachel was running towards him with flying feet.
"O Tom, Tom, Tom! we knew it could be no one but you! O dearest Tom, so you have come home at last!"
He swung himself from the saddle, and put his arm about his sister.
"Yes, I have come home," he said a little huskily, "come home to see you all once more. The old place never changes--nor you and my mother!"
"Why should we?" asked Rachel softly.
And he kissed her again, with a strange feeling of the unreality of everything human.
The servants were flocking out by this time. His mother's arms were outstretched in welcome. There was something like a sob in Tom's throat as he felt them clasped about his neck.
"My dear, dear boy--my only son! Thank God that you have come safely through all threatened perils, and have come home to us again!"
Tom held her close in his arms. He would not speak a word to dash from her those fond hopes which she so plainly cherished. He would not speak of the peril overshadowing him, which might at any moment become imminent.
"It is good to be home, mother!" he said, and kissed her many times.