"We must arrange to get him away from here—Laurel's father," he said, as he put his arms about Cora. "Do you think he is strong enough to be moved?"
"I'll ask Laurel," replied Cora joyfully. If only now both the hermit and his daughter could leave that awful island. The other girls stepped to the door in answer to Cora's signal.
"Oh, I am afraid he is too weak for that now," Laurel whispered. "But when he is able I will have him taken to a hospital. That man kept us in terror. Now he is gone and I feel almost free."
"You have heard that he is gone?" questioned Cora.
"I had a letter," replied the other simply, and this answer only served to make a new matter of query for Cora. But she could not ask it now.
"He is sleeping," said Laurel. "Look!"
Cora went over to the pallet and looked down at the man who lay there. Yes, he was noble looking in spite of the growth of his hair and beard, and Cora could see wherein his daughter resembled him. There seemed something like a benediction in that hut, and as the thought stole over her, Cora breathed a prayer that it should not come in the shape of death.
"He's lovely," Cora said to Laurel. "Let us go out and not disturb him."
Jack and the others were waiting silently outside. Cora spoke to her brother. He understood.
"You girls had better go back," he said, "Ed and I will stay here to help Laurel."