“She kens I love her—I’ve been single for her sake. Promise to get all I’ve saved, Ingomar. Her dear auld-farrent[G] letters and my bank-book are a’ in my box. Ingomar—you—promise?”
“Most sacredly.”
“God love you! She’ll no be lang ahint (behind) her laddie.”
He lay still a little while, and he spoke but once again—repeating a verse of the 23rd Psalm.
“‘Yea, though I walk thro’ death’s dark veil,
Yet will I fear none ill;
For Thou art with me;
And Thy rod and staff me comfort still.’
“Is that the Aurora? Ingomar, tell me. Oh, how bright and how—joyful—Father——”
He was gone!
He had seen the Aurora; but it was the morning dawn of a happier life.
CHAPTER XI
“ENGLAND, HOME, AND BEAUTY”
Six weeks after this, and when the captain of the Walrus had given the explorers up for lost, after searching the snows in vain, for winter storms had obliterated every track, ten men with two dog-sledges suddenly appeared above Glen Bell on the ridge of the great tableland.