Soon he too heard the sound of hoofs on the hard road and sprang up.
There he stood in a shaft of moonlight—a poor young bewildered boy figure looking distractedly up at the two dear parents bending down over him from their big horses.
He threw his hand in the air, and turning his back on them pressed his face against the trunk of the old King of the Glen.
Before Mr. Devering could spring from his horse his wife was beside her boy.
Her cry rang through the wood, "My darling, my darling, why did you run away from me?"
Then she pulled his head round and, brushing back his hair, stood looking deep into his eyes.
"Mother!" he stammered, "if you are my mother."
She turned an alarmed face to her husband. "Jim—what madness is this?"
Mr. Devering shook his head. He stood with arms folded, looking in a most puzzled way at his child.