“They?”
“Old Granny and Dr. Hume. My father is there, too.” Phoebe clasped her hands. “Oh, God is good to me,” she cried. “That I should find my father and Mr. Hook on the same day.”
Billie felt strangely irritated, and then reproachful of herself.
“And your father, Phoebe,” she asked kindly. “What happened to him?”
“On the day he came to the camp, he said, the language of the German girl stirred up something in his mind. After he went away he must have been very confused and he only remembers walking for a long time and then falling. You would not guess who found and has cared for him all this time? Old Granny and Mrs. Lupo. They brought him to Granny’s cabin, where Mrs. Lupo has been hiding. Then the doctor came, and they got a wagon and moved him down the mountain to our home. That was yesterday.”
“I am so glad,” said Billie, endeavoring to be sympathetic, but feeling really much more relieved over the safety of Richard Hook.
“The doctor has sent you some written messages,” went on Phoebe, giving Billie a little note book. “They are inside.”
“My dear Miss Billie,” the note read, “not long ago you asked me to restore the sleeping memory of our friend and I told you it was sometimes best to let sleeping memories lie. Since that time I have become deeply interested in the personality of Phoebe’s father. He is a gentleman, undoubtedly, in birth and breeding. He is perfectly aware that he has lost his memory and has discussed the mystery of his identity with me so intelligently that I may say I feel it my duty to do what I can. Even his illusion regarding the physician is more in the nature of a deep and lasting impression evidently made just before he took the plunge into forgetfulness. I have mentioned that to him, too. He has never talked to people before on these subjects because there has never been anyone to talk to, but I have suggested the operation and he is keen to have it done. I must confess I am filled with curiosity about him. Who knows what distinguished niche he may have occupied once somewhere? I may be restoring—well, never mind. There is no use making guesses now. In spite of his broken leg, he is in good physical condition and I am going to have the thing over with. I am therefore asking you to send the telegrams you will find further over, to two young surgeons I know who will be interested enough in the case to put up with the inconvenience of the place. I would not risk exciting this mysterious person by moving him to a hospital. Mrs. Lupo appears anxious to make amends and will remain to cook and help generally. I think you had better bring over the ‘Comet’ to take back your friend, Mr. R. Hook, who seems strangely eager to return, although I have done my best to entertain him. I wonder if it could be a princess disguised as a beggar girl or a princess undisguised, who has so stirred young Richard’s soul. I need not say which princess has stirred mine.
“Faithfully, William Hume.”