The crowd still patiently surrounded the inn and received him with a loud shout. He, however, took no notice, but rode off.
"We could not very well refuse, Susan," said the farmer to his wife.
"He is your brother," she replied.
"Our only relative," murmured Diana.
"True. Diana is right. Children, unharness the animals: we will stop here tonight."
And, to the great surprise of the gaping crowd, who hung about after the fashion of idlers, the horses of the emigrants were unyoked and taken to a shed, the waggons placed under cover, without the curious knowing the reason why.
On the morning of the second day Joshua Dickson, shortly after sunrise, was overlooking the horses being fed by his sons and servants, when a great noise was heard in the street, as of many waggons, and then there was a sharp knocking at the door of the inn.
Joshua hastily left the stables and took his way to the great room of the hotel.
He came face to face with Samuel Dickson, who had just been admitted by the sleepy innkeeper.
"Hilloa!" cried Joshua, "Is that you, my brother?"