“That was long ago, father. I have grown up, but I am the same Tom.”
It must not be supposed that Robert Thatcher recovered his memory and reason all at once. It was not till Tom talked with him day after day, and patiently recalled one circumstance after another, and one person after another living in their native village, that the veil which had hung between him and the past was rent at length, and the bright light of fully recovered reason illumined his mind. Tom did not act wholly according to his own judgment, but he was aided and advised by a skillful physician, conversant with mental maladies similar to that by which Mr. Thatcher was afflicted.
At length he was repaid for his patient labor. His father’s mind returned to its normal condition, and four weeks after his arrival in San Francisco Tom and his father sailed for New York by the regular steamer.
Mr. Percival had settled up his indebtedness, and Tom carried with him drafts on New York for twenty-four thousand dollars. A part of the remaining thousand paid their passage, and the balance Tom carried with him in hard cash. Of course, the money properly belonged to his father, but it was Mr. Thatcher’s desire that Tom should relieve him entirely of business cares.
We must precede him, and let the reader know what had happened in Wilton while Tom was away.
CHAPTER XLV.
HOW THINGS WENT ON AT HOME.
WE GO back to the time of Tom’s leaving home.
His departure from Wilton excited considerable surprise, more especially as people could not find out where he had gone. Many were the inquiries made of Mrs. Thatcher, but she answered as Tom had requested her, “Tom has gone West.”
“Indeed, has he gone far West?”