"Yes, I knew the danger if you didn't," returned Tom. "He had been gone three days when you came and I was expecting him back at almost any minute. Now I understand why he called me his dear son. How we managed to dodge him is a miracle."
"Finding you was a miracle!" was David's reverent exclamation. "I feel as though I'd been living in a nightmare and just awakened from it."
"Le bon Dieu never forget the one' he lov'," nodded Jean positively. "An' he hav' lov' Mam'selle Grace an' M'sieu' Tom much or we never fin' the M'sieu'." Jean made his usual sign of reverence for the Supreme Being in which his faith was firmly grounded. "Now we mak' ready to spen' another night outdoors. Jean will watch while his frien's sleep. To-morrow an' we see the camp. Then, M'sieu' David, it is for you to go to the village an' sen' the message that we hav' not fail, to those who watch an' wait."
Late the following afternoon the overseer of the lumber camp received the surprise of his life. The sight of two exhausted, weather-beaten men who toiled painfully into his front yard, bearing a rude litter on which reclined a third man, sent the amazed Scotchman racing joyfully to meet them. A little later Tom Gray was surrounded by the comforts which had so long been denied him. After a hearty meal and a brief rest, David Nesbit set off for the village on the overseer's horse to telegraph to Grace Harlowe and Mrs. Gray the glorious news that Tom Gray had been found and would soon be restored to them.
But David had also another equally important commission to execute which directly concerned Jean's "wil' man." After sending the two telegrams he went at once to the home of the county sheriff, who lived in the village. Completely disgusted with the lax manner in which the sheriff had conducted the search, David reported to him the finding of Tom, with a scathing arraignment which the inefficient official accepted in scowling silence. Convinced by David's rebuke that it was high time to redeem himself, he agreed to send out a posse of men the very next day to cover the western stretch of forest in which the demented man had managed to keep himself so cleverly concealed.
It may be said here that the sheriff kept his word. For two weeks the hunters of the unfortunate man scoured the forest to find him. Due to the wildness of the region they had great difficulty in locating the place of Tom Gray's imprisonment. Once discovered, they found the hut empty. A guard was posted around it, but the fearsome tenant never returned. It was not until almost a year afterward that those whose lives fate had briefly linked with his, read in a newspaper a lengthy account of his capture in a town a long distance from the territory surrounding the lumber camp. The news that he had been placed in an asylum for the insane was a matter of relief to all concerned.
On the very afternoon that Tom Gray was carried into the overseer's yard Grace Harlowe and J. Elfreda Briggs were making arrangements to leave Oakdale for a brief visit to Emma Dean at Overton College. They had planned to depart for Overton on the nine o'clock train the next morning, little dreaming of the remarkable upheaval that was soon to take place in their plans. Having waited long and patiently for news from the north Grace was feeling the suspense most keenly. She had expected so much from Jean that with each day's dawn the struggle to maintain a hopeful aspect grew more difficult. It was now over two weeks since Jean had departed from Oakdale, and aside from two brief letters from David, written during the first week of the renewed search for Tom Gray, she had heard nothing further from him. From Jean she had not expected to receive a letter. It had been agreed beforehand that David should do the letter-writing.
Despite her efforts at concealment, her deep depression now began to stamp itself so strongly upon her sensitive features, that Elfreda Briggs had again pleaded with her to consider paying a brief visit to Emma Dean. Fond as she was of Emma, Grace's heart was not in the proposed trip to Overton. She finally made reluctant consent, merely to please the girl who had stood by her so staunchly.
It was therefore a most mournful Loyalheart who listlessly packed a traveling bag, preparatory to the next morning's journey. Long after the house was quiet for the night, she lay awake, debating with herself whether or not it were wise to go to Overton. Morning found her still undecided. When at half-past eight o'clock she and Elfreda descended the stairs, luggage in hand, she experienced a wild desire to refuse flatly to go. The thought that the taxicab ordered to convey them to the station was probably on its way to the house, brought her a remorseful reflection that she had no right to back out at the last moment, thus disappointing Elfreda.