But still Michael Sunlocks made him no answer.
"It's fourteen years since God spared your life to me; just fourteen years to-night, Michael. I remembered it, and that's why we are here now. When I brought you back in my arms she was there at my feet, lying dead, who had been my rod and punishment. Then I vowed, as I should answer to the Lord at the last day, that if I could not go back, you should."
Michael covered his face with hands.
"My son, my son—Michael, my little Sunlocks, I want to keep my vow. Will you go?"
"Yes, yes," cried Michael, rising suddenly. His doubt and pride and shame were gone. He felt only a great tenderness now for the big rude man, who had sinned deeply and suffered much and found that all he could do alone would avail him nothing.
"Father, where is she?"
"I left her at Reykjavik, but I don't know where she is now."
"No matter, I will hunt the world over until I find her, and when I have found her I will be as a son to her, and she shall be as a mother to me."
"My boy, my boy," cried Stephen.
"If she should die, and we should never meet, I will hunt the world over until I find her child, and when I have found it I will be as a brother to it for my father's sake."