“Yes; he has a large estate in Devonshire.”
“Great Heavens!” exclaimed the young man; “Giles Crosmont is my father.”
“Your father? Come, then, let me lead you to him at once.”
“No, no,” said the young man, hanging back. “He would not receive me.”
“Would not receive you? He is in California for the express purpose of hunting you up.”
“Are you sure of that?” asked the young man eagerly.
“Yes; he told me so himself.”
“That is the best news I have heard for many a day. Take me to him, then, at once.”
The surprise and deep thankfulness of Mr. Crosmont when Grant arrived with his son may be imagined. He held out his arms without a word, and folded the young man in his embrace.
“I am ashamed to come back to you, father,” said young Crosmont, “after the way I have behaved.”