As the boat entered the bay then, and the mountains and cliffs grew taller and taller, and cast great shadows across the water, Fred was noticed by his captain to become strangely excited, and to look more and more surprised every moment. He kept gazing around him.
"Captain Cawdor," he said at last, clutching his friend's arm, "am I really and truly awake? Oh, sir, everything around me is familiar—every rock and cliff and gloomy hill! Oh, captain, I've been here before!"
He looked so wild as he spoke that Captain Cawdor really began to think he was taking leave of his senses. But he had more reason to think so immediately afterwards.
Fred started to his feet, his cap falling off as he did so, his eyes staring shorewards, in which direction also his right arm was stretched.
"I knew it! I knew it!" he cried. "It is my dream coming true—my thrice-dreamt dream! Look, sir, look! Yonder stands Frank himself!"
He waved both arms madly above his head,
"Frank! Frank! Frank!" he shouted, "it is I, Fred Arundel, your friend, your brother!"
He sank down almost exhausted.
Captain Cawdor noticed a young man in the garb of a sailor come staggering along the snow to the very edge of the black water, where he swayed about, so that those in the boat were in momentary expectation of seeing him fall into the sea.
No sooner had the boat touched the snow edge than Fred sprang up and leapt on shore, and next moment the two long-lost friends stood hand in hand gazing into each other's faces, though neither could speak a single word.