The poor father thought this was the answer to his prayer and believed that Dora was dead and this was her spirit that had come to warn him of her death. He sank to the ground, sobbing, incapable of other movement. Then, again, clearer, nearer came the sound of the dear voice, and Morris raised his head to see his child come walking toward him and singing the old song as she came. He half-whispered:
“Dora, mein chilt—alife! Dank Gott—alife!”
“Who are you, sir?” asked Dora, looking at her father as we look at strangers. “I don’t know you. I am looking for my father and Bennie.”
“Look at me, mein chilt! I am your fader! Don’t you know me?”
“No—I don’t know you, and I must go away from you, for I must find my father and Bennie.”
As she said these words, poor Dora walked away toward the ravine from whence she had come. Muriel, worn out with watching, had fallen asleep, and Dora had somehow found another entrance to the cave and gone out that way, which brought her to the mouth of the tunnel where her father was at work trying to get gold to seek for his daughter, and now that he had found her he discovered that she was insane and did not know him. As she went back toward the ravine her father roused from his stupor and cried:
“Dora! Dora! come back! Come back!” But she disappeared from his sight in the darkening shadows, while John and Dopey both sprang at Morris, saying roughly:
“Where are you going?”
“Stand avay! I am going to get mein chilt.”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind. She belongs to me now.”