At the odd sound of his voice, Crosman got up without a word and brushed by him into the outer office, gently pushing the door to behind him.
“Sit down, Captain,” said Halloran.
The Captain took the chair by the desk.
“I went up to the house to see the Old Gentleman, but they wouldn't let me in.”
“No; he is not allowed to see anybody. Will I do?”
Craig seemed not to hear the reply. “I got a letter just now—and I wondered if I couldn't get away for a little while—I guess I won't be needed on the steamer?”
“Certainly not.”
“I got a letter this morning—I didn't know as I read it straight—I haven't got my glasses with me——-” It seemed difficult for him to speak naturally, and he paused, staring at a glass paper-weight on the desk. His seamed, harsh old face was working. “My God! Mr. Halloran,” he broke out, “I don't hardly dare believe it! Here, read it.”
Halloran took the letter and read what follows:
“Father: I have waited a long, long time, and now I'm tired and I want to come home. You were right always—it was all a mistake. Now when I look back there are some parts of it that are like dreams to me. Do you think you could forgive me? Do you think you could let me come back and take care of your house for you?