The girl, to be sure, sobbed at first a good deal in the dark but the two men knew nothing of this. Soon, after the first acute pain of the personal loss, she was able to reason a little with herself. It seemed to her then, remembering how much a child he was when with her and how strong and powerful he looked as he stepped into the woods, that perhaps, after all, he would be happier with his many children than with her. Then always there was the opportunity of coming back to him,––coming under better auspices and with better opportunities for really bringing him to his own. It was this last thought that finally brought her real consolation.
“Perhaps,” she said to Wilson, hesitating a trifle in fear that he might not approve of the suggestion, 329 “perhaps some day we can come back here to him, David.”
“I had thought of it, dear. He saved our lives; if he had remained, not one of us would have got out of here. That in itself is enough to make us everlastingly beholden to him. But––” he paused, “I think, dear heart, that it is kinder to let him remain even among heathen people a strong man with power, than to bring him back, a child, to die.”
“He chose for himself, David.”
“Yes––and was able to realize and be glad that he had been given another chance to do for his daughter.”
The girl thought a moment. Then her face brightened.
“That––that alone makes the trip worth while.”
“That––and this,” he answered, drawing her to his side.
“Yes,” she whispered, “and in a way he gave me you––he gave me you.”