"Tell me of—of Mrs. McAdam and Jerry McAlpin?"
"Mrs. McAdam is famous and rich. The White Fish Lodge has a waiting list every summer. The—the body of Sandy drifted into the Channel a month after you left. Bounder found it. You remember how he used to know the sound of Sandy's engine? The day the body was washed up he—seemed to know. One grave is filled, and Mary McAdam has put a monument between the two graves with the names of both boys. Jerry McAlpin has grown old and—and respectable. He has a fancy that Jerry-Jo will come back a fine gentleman. All these years he has been preparing for the prodigal. The young devil has never sent a line to his father. A bad lot was Jerry-Jo."
And then Priscilla told her story with many a catch in her voice.
"You see—he did it for me, Master Farwell. He was not all bad. Who is, I wonder? He lies in a quiet spot Mr. Boswell and I found far out in the country. There's a hemlock nearby and a glimpse of water. I—I think I will not let old Jerry know. While he waits, he is happy. While he is getting ready, life will mean something to him. And oh! Master Farwell, when—when Jerry-Jo went, he thought he was going through the Secret Portage to the Big Bay. I believe he will—welcome his father in the open some day. I will not send word back to the In-Place."
Farwell frowned.
"Boswell has touched you with his fanciful methods," he muttered; "is it—for the best?"
"I am sure it is. And—my—my people, Master Farwell, my mother?"
At this Farwell started and stepped back. The light from an electric lamp fell full on the girl's quivering, brilliant face. He had told Boswell of the mother's death.
"You—you did not know?" he asked. "She died——"
"Died? Master Farwell, my mother dead!"