him. Francis, somewhat alarmed at his position, had his eyes cast down, and had not yet seen us. When the king was within twenty yards of us, they stopped, and all the savages prostrated themselves before him; we alone remained standing. Then Francis saw us, and uttered a piercing cry, calling out, "Papa! dear brothers!" He struggled to quit the shoulders of his bearers, but they held him too firmly. It was impossible to restrain ourselves longer; we all cried out, and mingled our tears and lamentations. I said to the good missionary,—a little too harshly, perhaps,—"Ah! if you were a father!"
"I am," said he, "the father of all this flock, and your children are mine; I am answerable for all. Command your sons to be silent; request the child to be composed, and leave the rest to me?"
I immediately took advantage of the permission to speak. "Dear Francis," said I, holding out my arms, "we are come to seek you and your mother; after all our dangers, we shall soon meet an, to part no more. But be composed, my child, and do not risk the happiness of that moment by any impatience. Trust in God, and in this good friend that He has given us, and who has restored to me the treasures without which I could not live." We then waved our hands to him, and he remained still, but wept quietly, murmuring our names: "Papa, Fritz, Ernest,—tell me about mamma," said he, at last, in an inquiring tone.
"She does not know we are so near her," said I. "How did you leave her?"
