# Old Ninety-Nine's Cave/Chapter 12

CHAPTER XII
Six years have passed by. It is March and we are here at The Laurels again. Can this beautiful city with its population of ninety thousand be Nootwyck? Electric lights, street railways, stately residences, handsome public buildings and all modern conveniences. What magic wand wrought this change?
Foreign capital has flowed in, Old Ninety-Nine is still rich, and every Nootwyckian regards "Old Ninety-Nine" himself as the patron saint of the valley. The mine is worked on the co-operative plan and, thus far, results have justified the experiment.
Educational advantages are of the first order. Genung University, situated on the piece of land known as "The Pines," is a model institution ranking with any in the State. The corps of instructors is composed of eminent men and women and every means ​is employed to keep the standing first class. Manufacturing is encouraged. Farmers find a ready market for produce, thus developing the magnificent agricultural interests; a railway center, Nootwyck's prosperity is assured.
Mr. and Mrs. De Vere seem supremely happy. Jack, now the proud father of one little girl and three boys, is a prosperous ranchman, and his letters assure his mother that Dora is simply the best wife that ever a man had. And the children—!
Celeste and Elisha live down in the city. Eletheer expects to graduate from a training school for nurses in New England next year, and Cornelia has developed into the family beauty. In point of resemblance, she is all her grandmother could have wished, a De Vere, every inch. Reuben and Margaret are unchanged.
Point Wawanda is no more, and where it once towered the shaft-house now rears its unsightly walls. But what has been lost in the picturesque has been compensated by material benefit.
​Deep down in the bowels of the earth is an underground city in whose streets the miners are delving and sending the precious metal to the surface.
Something unusual is in the wind at The Laurels. All is excitement and bustle of preparation for some great event. Again and again are the rooms inspected to see that everything is all right, the fires are kept burning that no one may take cold. Four o'clock brings Celeste who, with Elisha, will be among those to receive Jack and Dora with the niece and nephews, who are the only grandchildren.
Celeste is a trifle more matronly, which only enhances her beauty, and she follows Cornelia about the house, Cornelia feeling that if Celeste approves there is no cause for criticism.
Jack is coming home and the telegram said he would reach Nootwyck to-morrow morning.
The air had been spring-like all day with occasional flurries of snow, but by evening the ground was white. As night came on, the ​flakes fell faster and faster and by bedtime the storm had girded up its loins and turned into a raging one. It meant business, for there was no promise of a lull. A large body of old snow still lay on the ground and by morning over a foot had been added to it while it was still falling furiously. The air was filled with great feathery flakes and the way the snow piled up was amazing. The wind increased every hour and by ten o'clock great clouds of snow were sent whirling about and piling up so that it was impossible to see beyond a few feet.
The De Veres grew anxious. No sound of a locomotive's whistle since seven o'clock and now it was noon.
"They are probably in New York City," said Mr. De Vere.
"But the train leaves there at seven o'clock and at that time no one could have expected this Dakota blizzard," Mrs. De Vere protested.
The house, substantial as it was, shook with the fury of the raging tempest. Long before ​night, the whole lower floor was in darkness and the storm unabated. The city below was invisible. All day and night the storm continued and Monday morning brought no change.
Reuben managed to keep the way to the woodhouse passable and the fires burning, although the barn was invisible from the house. His devoutly religious nature caused him to spend most of his leisure time in prayer and reading the Bible.
"Oh, well," said Margaret, as she deftly fished out the nut-brown crullers from a skillet of hot fat, "life is a misery an' I can't no-how unde'stan' it, but I sholy do mean to live as long as I ken. Po' Massa Jack an' dem sweet chillen all undah dis snow!" and her tears flowed afresh.
On Wednesday morning the air cleared and by noon the thermometer, which had registered zero, rose to twenty. The sun coming out melted the surface, that formed a crust which precluded further drifting.
Reuben and Mr. De Vere were working ​their way to the imprisoned animals in the barn, which seemed an endless task. It was quite dark when they accomplished it and sounds of distress greeted them when at last the door was forced open. None of the animals in the barn were seriously injured and they were quickly attended to; but in the chicken-house, which was built against the mountain side, every inmate was found frozen stiff—probably smothered—as the building was completely covered with snow.
Hungry as wolves, Mr. De Vere and Reuben returned to the house for supper, thankful that, excepting the chickens, none of the stock was injured. The path they had made resembled an alley with the snow piled up fully six feet at the sides.
As they neared the kitchen, Margaret's melodious voice rang out:
"Margaret," said Mr. De Vere, "is supper nearly ready? We are almost starved."
"Law me, Massa John, been waiten' dis bressed ouah," she replied, bustling into the dining-room.
"What is your honest opinion of a blizzard, Margaret?" Mr. De Vere asked a few minutes later, as she appeared at the table with a platter of hash.
"De' jes' ain' no sayin' 'bout dat, Massa John," she answered with a toss of her head. "I'se t'inkin' 'bout dem po' chillen."
Margaret's philosophy was decidedly original and a source of great amusement to the family.
Night came on calm and beautiful, innumerable stars twinkling in the heavens above. "The Laurels" stood calm and silent in the ​shadow of the mountain and from his chamber window Mr. De Vere looked out with feelings akin to awe. The world seemed dumb, frozen by the hands of grim winter; Nootwyck a city of giant snowdrifts. A few twinkling lights indicated that life was still there but the silence was of that muffled kind which makes one apprehensive.
"Oh, what untold sufferings this must have caused!" he reflected, tears starting to his eyes as he glanced in the direction where Shushan lay, and he thought of the young life among those snow-bound hills, there being devoured by a relentless foe. What a power for good he might have been! His very soul recoiled at the thought that one with Hernando's fine feelings should be a victim to the most loathsome disease known and compelled to saturate his poor, disfigured body with the nauseating fumes of "Stinking Spring." "Ah, well," he thought bitterly, "this is one of the 'mysteries.'"
Tired out, he retired early but tossed restlessly all night.
​Thursday's paper contained a pretty good description of the blizzard and at breakfast on Friday, Mr. De Vere read it aloud. It ran, "A genuine sample of the Dakota article, the severest storm ever known hereabouts. Nootwyck shut off from the outside world for nearly a week. Factories stopped, schools closed, and business at a standstill. All railways and highways blockaded. Snowbanks of dimensions heretofore existing only in the imagination.
"It won't do any longer to talk of the snow-storms of 'auld lang syne.' The one of this week has eclipsed all previous records. Even those who, in the early part of the week, had 'remembered' greater storms are now fain to admit that they were mistaken, as inklings from the outside world begin to come in showing how complete has been the blockade over such a wide extent of country. No train since Saturday and here it is Thursday night, and there are good prospects that the embargo may last wholly or partially for several days longer. The limits of Nootwyck's communi​cation with the world about her up to Wednesday night were Wawarsing and Leurenkill. Nearly all the remainder of the highways are still completely blockaded, and it is doubtful if many roads will be opened up in a week yet. No mails have arrived since Saturday night. In fact, Nootwyck would be completely isolated from the rest of mankind were it not for the telegraph and telephone. So far as we can learn, the same condition of affairs exists generally over the State and New England. Fears are entertained that there may have been considerable loss of life attending the storm when the full particulars are made known."
A loud ring at the door interrupted the reading and Reuben returned from answering the bell, with a telegram from Jack. It brought the welcome news that he and his family were safe in New York City and that they would leave for Nootwyck as soon as the tracks were cleared.
They had barely finished reading the message when another ring called Reuben to the ​door. It was none other than Dr. Herschel who wished to see Mr. De Vere on important business.
Mr. De Vere's face blanched when told who the visitor was and he entered the library with an apprehensive face.
Dr. Herschel lost none of his dignity as he arose to meet Mr. De Vere with,—"I wonder if Mr. De Vere will believe in the efficacy of my treatment when I tell him that Hernando is cured!"
"Doctor," said Mr. De Vere, "you are an eminent man, a profoundly scientific one, and in presuming to still doubt your ability I must appear pig-headed; but leprosy has been treated and investigated for ages. Every known drug in the pharmacopœia has been tried, but always the result has been disappointing. I appreciate your efforts but can only reiterate that I have no faith in your ability to effect a permanent cure."
The doctor's expression did not lose one iota of its earnestness as he replied in a tone so convincing that his listener unconsciously ​imbibed some hope. "Listen," he said, "you are a just man and a good one. I will not bore you with technical names, nor narrate systems. On my honor as a gentleman, on my reputation as a physician, backed up by the proof of microscopical examinations and the expressed concurrence with me of two of the most eminent dermatologists in the world, I pronounce Hernando Genung cured."
Mr. De Vere grew dizzy and the doctor drew his chair near to wait until he felt able to hear the rest. "Two of my friends—the gentlemen mentioned—are snow-bound at Shushan. The road from there to Lock Hill is broken by oxen and from there I came down on a hand-car. If you say so, I will return in the same manner and come down with Hernando and the two physicians, who wish to get back to the city as soon as possible."
Are the trains running?"
"Not yet, but they probably will be some time to-day." At that moment, the warning whistle of a north-bound train sounded and Dr. Herschel rushed out of the house.
​Doctor!" called Mr. De Vere, "do as you suggest by all means!"
Reuben, too, had heard the whistle and off he started at the doctor's heels. Nothing but paths were as yet broken but his strong arms could carry two of "dem bressed chillen" who he knew were in that train.
Just as the train was about to stop, Reuben rushed breathlessly up the station steps.
"Suah 'nough, deah young Massa Jack had come, but oh, how changed!" Rugged as a bear, brown and muscular, but the same "Massa Jack" as of old.
"Dora," said Jack, "this is Reuben, the guardian angel of our family!"
Dora's eyes told Reuben that she had heard of him before and, greatly embarrassed, he took young Elisha and Celeste—one on each arm—and led the way to The Laurels followed by the others.
Half way down the yard they were met by Celeste and Cornelia, and Dora concluded that the De Veres must all be very much alike.
"So this is Dora of whom I am inclined to ​be jealous," said Mrs. De Vere, giving her a real motherly kiss.
Dora was dragged into the sitting-room and as she drank the fragrant hot coffee, which Margaret said was good for frost bites, she felt that Jack had not over-rated the virtues of his family. She had rather dreaded meeting them and it had taxed her courage greatly when she thought of the dignified mother-in-law who must have strong ideas as to the fitness of any woman to be the wife of her darling boy. But it was a clear case of mutual respect and before Dora had spent an hour with her mother-in-law, she was ready to swear to all that Jack had said.
Celeste and Elisha were now marshalled into the bathroom by "Aunt Celeste," while Dora took Jack-the-third under her protection.
Every nook in the dear old place was revisited by Jack. Lost in admiration, he was gazing from the windows on the city below when he was interrupted by his father who, in the excitement of their arrival, had for the time being neglected to mention Hernando's ​restoration. Mr. De Vere had just told his wife of Dr. Herschel's verdict and was now in search of Jack on the same mission. Jack's experience in Texas, the land of surprises, had prepared him in a measure for this overwhelming one. He was speechless for a few moments and then said quietly, "Dr. Herschel's reputation is such that he would not make the statement without proof to substantiate it. I am ready to believe it."
"His home-coming must be as happy as lies in our power," said Mr. De Vere fervently.
"I have telegraphed Eletheer and undoubtedly she will be home this coming week."
"And I will help Margaret in getting his room ready," said Jack.
Mrs. De Vere and Margaret were already busy there. The room was open, the windows flung wide to let in the sunlight and fresh air. Jack kindled a fire of fragrant birchwood. An odor of sweet clover from clean linen scented the room. All hands joined in converting the room into a bower of loveliness. ​Elisha appeared with an immense bouquet of roses. These Celeste arranged on the table beside the latest magazine which Jack had brought from New York. Nothing was left undone and everything bespoke loving thoughtfulness.
In the kitchen Margaret was outdoing herself. Only too well did she remember Hernando's partiality for certain dishes and Reuben haunted the city markets.
It was now five o'clock and the first down train was due at six. All day long forces of men had been busy clearing the streets so that the main ones were passable, and promptly at six Reuben reined up at the station. Mr. De Vere sprang out of the sleigh, tramping impatiently back and forth. Six-twenty and still no train. What could be the matter? Mr. De Vere's nervous strain was beginning to tell, and although accosted by several of his acquaintances, he did not heed; his mind was intent on one thing. The perspiration stood in drops on his forehead and every few seconds he took off his hat to wipe a bald spot ​on the top of his head. Suddenly stopping, he called:
"Reuben, have you seen Mr. Genung to-day?"
"Yes, Massa, hyah he comes now," pointing up the street.
De Vere rushed madly down the steps to meet Genung and grasping the latter's hand, whispered:
"I'm expecting Hernando on the six o'clock train; and cured! Now, for God's sake don't make a fool of yourself!"
"And I'm here for the same thing you are; but one fool is enough to amuse this gaping crowd!" Genung gasped with staring eyes.
At last the welcome whistle sounded and before the train came to a standstill these two dignified men scrambled up the steps, heedless of the brakeman's warning "Wait till the train stops."
But a pair of intensely blue eyes had seen it all from the platform and their owner gave a joyful exclamation as he sprang down to meet them, shouting,—"Uncle! Mr. De Vere!" ​and his arms were around both their necks.
Dr. Herschel, fearing a scene, hastily introduced Drs. Hinckle and Le Corr and hustled the three into a sleigh. He then signalled a cab and motioned Reuben to proceed. "Dear me, these emotional Americans!" he said, seating himself with the other physicians in the cab.
"A noble fellow," remarked Dr. Hinckle.
"Interesting psychologically," observed Dr. Le Corr.
"And personally," Dr. Herschel continued, who regarded Hernando as his own handiwork.
Further conversation was cut short by their arrival at the house. Surely, if appreciation of honest effort is gratitude, Dr. Herschel must have been a happy man. The entire family from Mr. De Vere to Margaret burst into tears of joy.
Dr. Herschel blew his nose vigorously and, as every one else seemed to have lost his head, he took the part of host upon himself and ushered them into the library. Mr. ​Genung was the first to collect his scattered senses and, beckoning to Reuben, he said: "My good man, lead us in prayer." Reuben obeyed instantly, and every one knelt. For a few seconds there was profound silence and then Reuben repeated word for word the ninety-first Psalm. Though each may have interpreted it differently, every soul in that group realized that God is "friendly."
Hernando's eyes looked bluer than ever under the snow-white curls. The old hurt look was gone and in its place was one pure and full of loving compassion for the sufferings of others. The glow of perfect health was in his cheeks and his frame was vigorous. Mr. Genung hung about him as one raised from the dead and, as Hernando lovingly stroked those locks, silvered through sorrow for him, he again and again thanked them all for their loyal friendship.
"My life has been spared for some definite purpose and it shall be my duty to find out what that is," he concluded.
Dinner was announced—such a dinner! ​Here also, Hernando saw evidenced the same kindly thought, the same endeavor to make him forget that he had ever been away from them. It was a Thanksgiving dinner in very truth, and in each one's heart was a prayer of gratitude.
The doctors wished to take the ten o'clock train for New York City, so, after dinner, they, with Mr. De Vere and Mr. Genung, withdrew to the library and as soon as they were seated, Mr. De Vere said, "Dr. Herschel, money cannot pay our debt of gratitude. It seems an insult to mention it in connection with such miraculous skill; but this is a practical world, and if you will allow us to place at your disposal a certain sum, it could be used in any way you thought best."
"To 'Old Ninety-Nine,' not me, is your gratitude due," Dr. Herschel replied.
"And but for you his cure would without doubt be still unknown," broke in Mr. Genung. "No, modesty is an estimable trait but, giving 'Old Ninety-Nine' due credit, our indebtness is to you."
​"'Old Ninety-Nine's' will more than pays me," returned the doctor in a tone so decided as to preclude further discussion. "And," the doctor continued, "as an 'immune,' Hernando's assistance will be invaluable to me, should he decide to give it."
At this both De Vere and Genung started. "Surely, Doctor, you will not again part us!" they exclaimed.
"Not soon at any rate—perhaps never."
It was nearly train time and the doctors arose to leave with,—"Just let us slip off quietly. There has been quite enough excitement in the family for one day."
"But you will not desert us, Doctor?" De Vere protested.
"No indeed. In the fall I propose going abroad for six months, but my earnest desire is that our friendly relations continue." And with a parting hand-shake they were gone.
Who can describe Hernando's feelings as in his own room, so dainty and wholesome, he sat before the fire on this chill March night? We are told that in this life perfect ​happiness is never attained; some obstacle, some blot interposes just short of realization. But is this not materialistic philosophy? Some one has said that,—"It is possible for a man to so conquer the subjective world within himself that he may rule over the objective, thus bringing himself en rapport with the harmonious vibrations of nature in a happiness vouchsafed only to those who understand and obey her laws." Sweet was his sleep as he lay on the soft bed that had once been Granny's, and who can say that she was not drawn thither by the law of spiritual attraction?
Saturday was a busy day in town. Reports of the blizzard's havoc were harrowing in the extreme. Relief expeditions were sent out to aid the suffering mountaineers, still imprisoned in the mountains, some in a starving condition. Several had lost their way in endeavoring to reach town and had perished.
All hands joined in the good work and by night the greater part of the sufferers had been attended to.
​"Anyway," said Mr. De Vere, "terrible as was this storm, it does not equal the one they had out West in January. Two hundred and thirty lives were lost and the drop in the thermometer was one hundred degrees."
"But this one has extended over several States and we do not yet know how many lives have been lost," his wife replied.
It was almost bedtime, the last north-bound train had arrived and no Eletheer yet; so the family decided that she would not be home before Monday. Hernando and Jack recalled her old habit of surprising people and proposed going to meet the train anyway, but had abandoned the idea and were busy with Reuben at the barn.
However, on receiving the telegram announcing Jack's arrival and the restoration of Hernando, she as quickly as possible obtained permission to drop out until fall, and both she and Mary Genung—who was taking a post-graduate course in a New England college—were aboard the nine-thirty express. Mr. Genung met the train and a long con​versation followed, which accounted for Eletheer's late arrival home. She had developed into an independent woman, giving promise of mental breadth, though inclined to be opinionated; had entered the training school with rosy-hued visions of reforming the world through kindly ministrations and well-timed advice; but the probationary month quickly disillusioned her. The first principle to learn was absolute, unquestioned obedience to superior officers. Many were the bitter tears shed in secret, but pride sustained her and she struggled on through hard facts, winning the respect of all.
Mr. Genung left her at the gateway and, crunching the snow under her stout boots, she soon sprang up the steps and into the house. Her manner was breezy and her greetings were characteristic. She regarded all demonstration of affection as nonsense, and this was generally understood. After shaking hands, she looked around inquiringly for Jack and Hernando.
"Eat your supper and by the time you have ​finished, they will be in from the barn," said her mother, leading the way into the dining-room.
"I ate supper at Middleburg but will ask Margaret to get me some crullers," and she darted past Mrs. De Vere into the kitchen, shouting, "Hello, Margaret!"
"Law me, Honey, how you do skeer a body!" exclaimed the latter. "I sholy is glad to see yo'," and she produced the crullers with the ever-ready coffeepot.
"How do you like Dora, Margaret?"
"She's just lubly. No po' w'ite trash."
"And the children? I'm aunty, you know," with pride.
"De bressed angels!"
"And Jack looks like a cowboy, I fancy."
"Law me, Honey—he's bigger'n yo' pa"—here her voice became full of awe—"Massa Hernando, he do look jes' like St. John."
Eletheer finished her lunch in silence and then, throwing a shawl over her head, started for the barn, where she found them mending a harness.
​So intent were they on their task that her appearance was unnoticed until she gave Jack a sound slap on the back, at the same time shouting,—"Hello, everybody!"
"Good heavens! Eletheer. At your old tricks," Jack answered, whirling her around in a jig.
Hernando burst out laughing but managed to grasp her outstretched hand as they brushed past him.
Reuben's heart was full to overflowing. Once more to see his dear children gathered together in this world of meetings and partings! But his feelings always under control, few guessed their depth.
"Dear old Reuben," said Eletheer, impulsively flinging her arms around his neck, "always the same! I have you to thank for many valuable points. In my daily rounds at the hospital your example is always before me."
"Pshaw, Honey, yo'se gwine to be a scientific nurse," he replied overwhelmed with confusion.
​Just here the clock struck eleven and they hurried into the house. Mr. and Mrs. De Vere had gone to bed but the others still sat before the library fire.
"Celeste, sing for us," said Jack, bringing her guitar.
She hesitated.
"Please do. I have heard no music since you sang for me," Hernando urged.
Instantly she took up her guitar though it was some minutes before she could control her voice, and then, her tones were pathetic; but gradually the musician conquered and she poured forth her soul in strains divinely sweet and melting.
"You have a rare gift in your voice, Celeste," said Hernando, when she had put aside her guitar.
"I believe we all possess some talent," she returned.
"So do I," he answered, "and we will be held responsible for the use we make of it. I am wondering for what purpose my life has been spared."
​"An earnest one, I am sure you will make it," said Eletheer. "Tell us about your life at Shushan."
All but Hernando started at this allusion to that hateful place for, by common consent, they had avoided mentioning it. He, however, seemed pleased as he said—
"Dr. Herschel's Chinaman, Wing—my companion at Shushan—is a very intelligent man. He speaks several languages fluently and his own perfectly. I studied Chinese under him, also botany and astronomy. Like myself, he was a leper. Our treatment, of course, consumed some time and aside from that we made astronomical observations, botanized and studied. I must show you some rare specimens found among those rocks."
"Of what beside baths and hygiene did your treatment consist?" Eletheer asked.
"Prepared snake venom, given hypodermically."
"Oh, how dreadful!" cried Celeste, whom the very sight of a snake sent into hysterics. ​"Were you ever bitten by any of the snakes?"
"No, immediately after arriving there, I received my first injection—an infinitesimal amount, of course, and one which produced no toxic symptoms; but, strange as it may seem to you, none of the snakes came near our cottage, and though frequently encountered and provoked in our rambles, they did not retaliate. Wing, my companion, did not arrive until some days after I did so I was in a measure prepared for the horrible sight he presented. His rigid forehead, entirely bare of eyebrows; the knotty, flattened nose; face and hands completely covered with leprous tubercles; immense ears and peculiar leper tones—but let us not dwell on this.
"Dr Herschel began treating him at once, and after a few days, during which he taught us his methods, we were left on honor to carry out orders implicitly, with a promise that he would return in about six weeks.
"Neither Wing nor I had one grain of confidence, in fact, we regarded the whole thing as a fetish which, believed in, would un​doubtedly assist the forces of nature in prolonging our miserable existence; but the pathology of leprosy shows that to cure, something besides faith is needed, and that something had never been discovered. But we persevered conscientiously, and instead of abandoning ourselves to despair lived mechanically day by day. My rheumatic pains were greatly benefited by the baths, and Wing's appetite surely spoke well for the bracing climate; but otherwise there was no perceptible change on Dr. Herschel's first visit to us.
"Three months passed by, six; surely I felt better than in years; but poor Wing! even in six months, I could see progress in the ravages of the disease, but he made no complaint.
"October, and another visit from Dr. Herschel. He pronounced me better and my companion worse. Unpacking his bag, the doctor carefully took out two syringes and, filling both, emptied the contents of one into Wing's cheek; then, baring one foot, the con​tents of the other instrument were injected into it and Dr. Herschel told him to lie down, which he did.
"Really interested, I, too, watched results.
"'Eureka!' Dr. Herschel shouted, springing to the side of Wing who lay gasping for breath, with every symptom of snake-bite poisoning.
"'Thank you, Doctor,' I said, 'justice will neither call you a murderer nor that poor, accursed piece of flesh a felon.'
"He made no reply, only with finger on pulse remained immovable. An hour passed and still Dr. Herschel made no sign. Unable longer to endure the strain, I said, 'Is he conscious?'
"'No. Prepare me a hypodermic of strychnine sulphate gr. one-fortieth,' handing me the instrument and bottle of tablets. This given, he again placed his fingers over Wing's pulse. Wing was fast sinking into a state of coma and every breath drawn seemed shorter.
"'Nitro-glycerine, quick!' called the doctor.
"Again the syringe was filled and emptied. ​All night long we watched, and morning found poor Wing still alive. For a week he lay in a comatose condition, cruelly, to my way of thinking, kept alive by stimulants, and then delirium set in; mild at first, but growing wilder and wilder. Had I not known his abstemious habits, I should have pronounced his case delirium tremens. All the terrifying illusions, delusions and hallucinations were present, snakes, devils, enemies were after him. Shouts for help brought no assistance and at last, completely exhausted, he would crouch on the floor, a picture of abject terror. With the greatest difficulty we managed to force down sufficient food to keep him alive, each paroxysm leaving him weaker until finally he lapsed into a low fever that lasted for weeks. Dr. Herschel never left us.
"'Doctor,' I said to him one day as we stood together by our patient's bedside, 'those tubercles certainly look smaller!'
"'And will look still smaller,' was his calm reply.
"I started and took a close look; the feet ​were without one! My heart gave a great bound and then seemed to stop.
"'There, my boy,' said Dr. Herschel, 'calm yourself! 'Old Ninety-Nine's' cave contained a rarer treasure than money and jewels.'
"A tedious convalescence and Wing rose from his bed clean, not a mark left to indicate that he had ever been a leper. His gratitude knew no bounds, and with the dawning of the new year, Dr. Herschel pronounced us both cured. However, for surety, we were to remain indefinitely at Shushan, now no hardship surely. How different life looked with an incentive to live; but, knowing the nature of the disease, we gratefully accepted this respite, and I can truthfully say that the remaining years there were the happiest of my life."
"And in six years you have learned the secret of happiness," said Eletheer meditatively.
"Which is found through obedience to nature's laws," Hernando replied. Then, ​turning to Jack, he made minute inquiries regarding his mother's last illness and death, again and again thanking him for his kindness, expressing a desire to show some means of appreciation of the part Miss Kurtz had taken in the vindication of his mother's character.
"I reckon you don't remember Tim Watson, Hernando," Jack asked. Hernando replied in the negative, but his manner showed that they would not long be strangers.
"Why can't you go back with us when we return?"
"I see no reason at present. It would give me great pleasure to do so."
"Oh, don't any one talk of going!" cried Celeste.
"Except to bed," Eletheer laughed.