Grace assumed an outward attitude that did not correspond with her feelings within. Whenever Carl addressed her she replied in a kindly, gracious tone, without hint of the madness that was eating away her soul. Carl appeared to be more business like and calculating than before. Often there were times when she longed to tell him her innermost feelings, but she could not bring herself to the point of doing so.
And then Fate took a hand.
What had brought Carl to the office so early that morning? Why should he have been there in the outer office when the postman delivered a second letter from Sana? Grace asked herself these questions as reluctantly she passed the letter over to Carl. He took it mechanically and not recognizing Sana’s writing, laid the missive aside for a few moments while he took up duties of greater importance to him than any personal letter possibly could be.
His evident non-recognition of the missive struck Grace rather forcibly as she watched him closely from her desk. No opportunity presented itself whereby she could secure this letter, and much to her chagrin she was obliged to watch Carl at last pick it up for reading.
He studied the stamp and the postmark, and as he did so became very restless, excitably so and with more than eager fingers he tore open the envelope. A small slip of paper fluttered to the floor. Eagerly he stooped to pick it up. Unfolding it his surprised eyes were confronted with—
HERE LIES MY BELOVED
SANA VON SECKT
REST IN PEACE
CARL
It was the note he had pinned to the charred cross on Sana’s grave. His face grew pale, and scarcely able to control his emotions he seized the letter itself and unfolded it. As he did so he stared with eyes that could not believe what they saw. He turned at once to the signature and the pallor of his face changed and gradually brightened while the fearsome look in his eyes was changed to one of wonder and joy. He read, scarcely breathing the while:
My beloved Carl:
As I promised you, I am writing you more at length now that I am at ease. I trust that my cablegram and first letter found you in good health and spirits, dearest darling boy.
I soon recovered from the experience I had in the captivity of those strange cavemen, and my quick recovery I ascribe to the joy of knowing that you, my sweetheart, were not murdered in cold blood. I went to church and thanked God for the wonderful escape you had. The terrible agony I endured until I met my mother kneeling before the cross, praying for my soul, I can hardly describe. All that I care about now is that you are safe.