McLeod gazed at the Indian for a moment in silent amazement.
“I fear,” continued Sharpeye, with a smile, “that I have to ask your forgiveness for having ventured really to practise deception on you.”
He removed a dark wig as he spoke, and revealed to the astonished gaze of the McLeods the light curly hair of Reginald Redding!
“Miraculous apparition!” exclaimed McLeod, grasping the proffered hand, “can I venture to believe my eyes?”
He glanced, as if for sympathy, to the spot where Flora had been seated; but Flora, for reasons best known to herself, had quietly retired to the interior of the tarpaulin tent and was just then absorbed in her duties as nurse to the invalid.
Chapter Twelve.
The Last.
Several months after the events narrated in the last chapter a very merry party was assembled in Mr William Gambart’s drawing-room at Partridge Bay.