"Father!" he exclaimed in an earnest tone; "who calls me father?"
"Don't you know me, father?--don't you remember Fred?--look at--"
Fred checked himself, for the wild look of his father frightened him.
"Ah! these dreams," murmured the old man; "I wish they did not come
so--"
Placing his hand on his forehead, he fell backwards in a state of
insensibility into the arms of his son.
CHAPTER XX.
_Keeping it down--Mutual explanations--The true
comforter--Death--New-Year's day._
It need scarcely be said that the sailors outside did not remain long in
ignorance of the unexpected and happy discovery related in the last
chapter. Bolton, who had crept in after Fred, with proper delicacy of
feeling retired the moment he found how matters stood, and left father
and son to expend, in the privacy of that chamber of snow, those
feelings and emotions which can be better imagined than described.
The first impulse of the men was to give three cheers, but Bolton
checked them in the bud.
"No, no, lads. Ye must hold on," he said, in an eager but subdued voice.
"Doubtless it would be pleasant to vent our feelings in a hearty cheer,
but it would startle the old gentleman inside. Get along with you, and
let us get ready a good supper."
"O morther!" exclaimed O'Riley, holding on to his sides as if he
believed what he said, "me biler'll bust av ye don't let me screech."
"Squeeze down the safety-valve a bit longer, then," cried Bolton, as
they hurried along with the whole population to the outskirts of the
village.
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