“Do you think, my dear mother, that I would raise such hopes if I had not good reason to suppose that they would be realised? No, my dear mother, I am not so cruel.”
“Then you know that Percival is alive?” said Mrs Campbell, seizing Alfred by the arm.
“Calm yourself, my dear mother, I do know—I am certain that he is alive, and that it was he who was found by the Indians; and I have great hopes that we may recover him.”
“God grant it! God grant it in His great mercy!” said Mrs Campbell. “My heart is almost breaking with joy; may God sustain me! Oh, where is—my dear Alfred—where is he?” continued Mrs Campbell. Alfred made no reply; but a flood of tears came to her relief.
“I will explain it to you when you are more composed, my dear mother. Emma, you have not said one word to me.”
“I have been too much overjoyed to speak, Alfred,” replied Emma, extending her hand to him; “but no one welcomes your return more sincerely than I do, and no one is more grateful to you for having brought Mary back.”
“Now, Alfred, I am calm,” said Mrs Campbell; “so let me hear at once all you know.”
“I see you are calm, my dear mother, and I therefore now tell you that Percival is not far off.”
“Alfred! he is here; I am sure he is.”
“He is with Malachi and the Strawberry; in a minute I will bring him.”