"What matter?" she said; "I am happy—oh, very happy at this moment."
The horsemen entered the defile, and the gallop of their horses grew very loud.
"Dismount, gentlemen," a powerful voice shouted, "we have arrived."
"'Tis he! 'Tis he!" she said, with a movement as if going to rush forward; "it was he who spoke—I recognised his voice."
The missionary held her in his arms.
"What are you about?" he exclaimed, "you will kill yourself!"
"Pardon me, father, pardon me! But on hearing him speak, I know not what emotion I felt; I was no longer mistress of myself, but rushed forward."
"A little patience, he is coming up; in five minutes he will be in your arms."
She started back hurriedly.
"No," she said, "not so, not so, the recognition would be too hurried; let me enjoy my happiness without losing a morsel. I wish him to find me out as I did him."