"I was dreamin' I was dead too, and the angels was turnin' me round and round to see if I was fit to go along wi' they, I suppose." He tried to laugh. "Just as we was crossin' Jordan, and the water was mighty deep, I sees my father. He catches hold on me—and—I—forgets the rest."
Again the child gazed with a distant look into the rugged face above him. He sat up.
"Blowed if it ain't my father, be we live or be we dead."
Recovered at length, the lad leaping up flung his arms about the dripping, dust-stained neck, exclaiming—
"S'help me Bob, I do believe, my dear old dad at last."
"It must be he," whispered Gwyneth to Travers.
"You know the child had lost his father, and was always longing to find him."
The pair were much affected when they heard of Willie's strenuous efforts to save their lives. Hurrying him to the dog-cart, and hastily telephoning for a gang to repair the embankment, the party rapidly drove back to the village.
Willie insisted that he had heard hammering behind the dam, and had seen a man slip away into the bushes. Travers was inclined to treat lightly the story, of which the lad had a very hazy idea, owing doubtless to the mental strain and physical shock to which he had been subjected. Gwyneth heard the words, and pondered them in her heart.
That night, however, there was rejoicing in the hospitable abode of Jim and his wife. Chattering and exclaiming, they received father and son who had been "dead and were alive again, lost and were found."
