"It can't be true," he muttered to himself. "I am dreaming this. I
shall wake presently, and you will be gone."
"It is quite true, Father. Mother is down at Tripataly, waiting for me
to bring you to her."
With a hoarse cry the sailor reeled, and would have fallen, had not
Dick caught him and allowed him to sink gradually to the ground; where
he lay, half supported by one of the bales. Dick ran to one of the
saddlebags, where he carried a flask of brandy in case of emergencies,
poured some into a cup, and held it to his father's lips. The sailor
gasped.
"It is brandy," he said suddenly. "I can't have dreamt that."
Then he broke into a violent sobbing. Dick knelt by his side, and took
his hand.
"It is assuredly no dream, Father," he said gently. "I am really your
son, Dick. I am here with a trusty friend, and now we have found you,
you may be sure that we will, in some way, manage your escape. There
is no time, now, to tell you all that has happened. That I can do,
afterwards. All that is important for you to know, is, that Mother is
quite well. She has never given up hope, and has always insisted that
you were alive, for she said that she should surely have known, if you
had died.
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