"Kalman," repeated his father, using the Galician speech, "come to me. I am your father."
The boy hesitated, looking fixedly at his father. But three years had wiped out the memory of that face.
"Come, you little Cossack," said his father, smiling at him. "Come, have you forgotten all your rides?"
The boy suddenly started, as if waking from sleep. The words evidently set the grey matter moving along old brain tracks. He walked toward his father, took the hand outstretched to him, and kissed it again and again.
"Aha, my son, you remember me," said the father exultantly.
"Yes," said the boy in English, "I remember the ride on the black horse."
The man lifted the boy in his strong arms, kissed him again and again, then setting him down said to Paulina, "Let us go in."
Paulina stepped forward and knocked at the door. Mrs. Fitzpatrick answered the knock and, seeing Paulina, was about to shut the door upon her face, when Paulina put up her hand.
"Look," she cried, pointing to the man, who stood back in the shadow, "Irma fadder."
"What d'ye say?" enquired Mrs. Fitzpatrick.