“Who—who are you? Have—have you come back to me?”
CHAPTER VII
A NIGHT ALARM
Instinctively the four girls, and Mrs. Bonnell, drew nearer together, shrinking away from the old man who had come up out of his boat to help them erect the tents. On his part he remained staring at Natalie, as though she were some ghost from the past. She paled a little beneath her clear, olive skin, but she did not seem afraid:
“Who are you?” repeated the man. “Surely you are not her come back to me after all these years. No, no! It can’t be, and yet you have her face—Speak—tell me!”
“What do you mean?” demanded Mrs. Bonnell, gathering her wits that had been a bit scattered by the suddenness of the change of manner in the man. “Who are you?”
“Everybody about here knows me,” he answered, not taking his eyes off Natalie, yet advancing no farther toward her. “But she—who is she?”
“One of the Camp Fire Girls, to be sure!” broke in Alice, with an attempt at gaiety. “What is this all about? It’s like amateur theatricals.”
“He seems to have taken quite a fancy to Natalie,” remarked Mabel, in a low voice.
“You can’t blame him,” whispered Marie. “She’s the dearest girl!”