His mood became pleasantly dreamy. He rested his head in his hands, and his foot on the body of the dog that lay stretched full length on the hearth luxuriating in the warmth. As he stared at the red ashes, an earnest of how his future was to shape itself made him feel as if a cool hand were laid soothingly on his brow.
He must have sat musing thus for quite a quarter of an hour, when the St. Bernard barked. Carriage-wheels sounded without, and voices.
"How glad I am they didn't come before," he thought, full of gratitude for the blessings the last hour or so had rained upon him. He went out. A long waggonette full of men and lights stood on the dyke, and close behind it one of the smaller Halewitz carriages, from which his mother's voice greeted him, half choked by tears.
"Found!" he cried, gleefully.
There was great rejoicings at the news. His mother climbed down from the carriage followed by the stout lady-help, who was laden with a supply of dry clothes.
Elly had, of course, given wrong directions. For two hours the carriages had been driving about from village to village.
His mother went into the house with the clothes, and begged him to wait outside.
"Don't scold her," he called after her on the threshold. "She has already had her share."
"I hope that you were not too hard on her!" she exclaimed.
He felt that he was growing red, and did not meet her glance.