He stepped into the hall, opened the parlor door, and called softly to his wife.
She came to him at once. "What is it? has baby wakened?"
He gently drew the door to behind her before he answered. Then taking her in his arms, "Milly, love," he said tenderly, and she noticed that his voice was unsteady, "can you bear very great joy?"
She gave him a startled look. "What is it? O Rupert? No, no, that cannot be!"
"Yes, dearest, news has come that his—that the report of his death was false—"
"Is he here?" she gasped. "O Charlie, don't keep me in suspense! take me to him."
"I did not say he was here, love; only that he was still alive at last reports."
But through the half-open door of the sitting-room she had caught a glimpse of a tall form that wore a strangely familiar look, and breaking from her husband's arms she ran to see who it was; ran into the arms of her long lost and deeply mourned brother, outstretched to receive her.
He held her close, she weeping hysterically on his breast. "Dear, dear brother! where, where have you been so long, so very long! while we wept and mourned for you as dead?"
"A captive among the Indians," he answered. "Tell me, has there been any break in the dear circle since I went away?"