Bernard smiled faintly, then pressed both hands to his heart, as if in sudden pain. Strong man though he was, the joyful and sudden news was almost too much for him.
He recovered in a moment though; then, as if by some sudden impulse, the three joined hands and danced and capered there until they were fain to desist from sheer exhaustion. They quieted down after this. They had allayed their excitement, blown off their steam. But for the time being surely no madder, dafter dance had ever been danced on a hilltop. Brandy, with his black face and white rolling eyes, the wild red man in his skins, and honest Tom Talisker in his rags-a comical trio!
I think when the dance was over they were all a little ashamed of it; but after all what else could they have done under the circumstances?
“Well, sah,” said Ginger Brandy, “I’se ’llayed my feelings plenty proper.”
“And I’ve allayed mine,” said Tom.
“I think,” said Bernard, “that dance has saved my reason.”
“And now,” cried Tom, “look, yonder goes the anchor down. Let us run and meet them.”
Well, surely there is truth in the old saying that wonders will never cease, for who should Tom meet near the shore coming panting up the tortoise-path but Uncle Robert himself.
“O, may the Lord be praised, my boy, we have found you.”
And for one moment Tom in his rags was pressed to the old man’s heart, and, will it be believed, he was sobbing like a child.