"Yes, mother, I have learned that long sought secret, and it brings me both gladness and grief," he answered with emotion.
"You have found her?" she asked in almost breathless, half credulous astonishment.
"Yes, mother, Reumah Clark, and—"
"Wait one moment," she faltered, pressing her hand to her heart.
He knelt at her side and threw an arm about her waist. She laid her head on his shoulder, heaving a gentle sigh.
"Now," she whispered, "tell me all. Oh, that terrible, terrible day. I can never recall it without a shudder."
His story did not go back to the scenes of that dreadful day on which he first saw the light. He merely gave a brief account of his interview with Reumah Clark, confining himself chiefly to her explanation of the mark which proved his identity, and her assertion that she had looked for and seen it at the time of his birth.
Mrs. Clendenin raised her head, showing a face radiant with joy and thankfulness.
"Oh, my dear boy, what glad news for you, what a burden removed! And yet—Ah, I am not the happy mother of such a son!" and her eyes filled with tears.
"No, that is the bitter drop in the cup, sweet mother, for I must still call you so, unless you forbid it. And, thank God, we are of the same blood."