“Oh, call them, call them!”
“I don’t think they will know you as I did, with that great beard on your face. We’ll see.”
When Bertrand and Mary entered, they stood for a moment aghast, seeing little likeness to either of the young men in the developed and bronzed specimen of manhood before them. But they greeted him warmly, eager to find him Peter, and in their manner he missed nothing of their old-time kindliness.
“You are greatly changed, Peter Junior. You look more like Richard Kildene than you ever did before in your life,” said Mary.
“Yes, but when we see Richard, we may find that a change has taken place in him also, and they will stand in their own shoes hereafter.”
“Since the burden has been lifted from my soul and I know that he lives, I could sing and shout aloud here in this cell. Imprisonment––even death––means nothing to me now. All will come right before we know it.”
“That is just the way Richard would act and speak. No wonder you have been taken for him!” said Bertrand.
“Yes, he was always more buoyant than I. Maybe we have both changed, but I hope he has not. I loved my friend.”
As they walked home together Mary Ballard said, “Now, Peter ought to be released right away.”
“Certainly he will be as soon as the Elder realizes the truth.”