AT THE STATUES,
AND THEN PART--I REACH HOME--POSTSCRIPT

I have said on an earlier page that George gained an immediate ascendancy
over me, but ascendancy is not the word--he took me by storm; how, or
why, I neither know nor want to know, but before I had been with him more
than a few minutes I felt as though I had known and loved him all my
life. And the dog fawned upon him as though he felt just as I did.

"Come to the statues," said he, as soon as he had somewhat recovered from
the shock of the news I had given him. "We can sit down there on the
very stone on which our father and I sat a year ago. I have brought a
basket, which my mother packed for--for--him and me. Did he talk to you
about me?"

"He talked of nothing so much, and he thought of nothing so much. He had
your boots put where he could see them from his bed until he died."

Then followed the explanation about these boots, of which the reader has
already been told. This made us both laugh, and from that moment we were
cheerful.

I say nothing about our enjoyment of the luncheon with which Yram had
provided us, and if I were to detail all that I told George about my
father, and all the additional information that I got from him--(many a
point did he clear up for me that I had not fully understood)--I should
fill several chapters, whereas I have left myself only one. Luncheon
being over I said--

"And are you married?"

"Yes" (with a blush), "and are you?"

I could not blush. Why should I? And yet young people--especially the
most ingenuous among them--are apt to flush up on being asked if they
are, or are going, to be married. If I could have blushed, I would. As
it was I could only say that I was engaged and should marry as soon as I
got back.

"Then you have come all this way for me, when you were wanting to get
married?"

"Of course I have. My father on his death-bed told me to do so, and to
bring you something that I have brought you."

"What trouble I have given! How can I thank you?"

"Shake hands with me."

Whereon he gave my hand a stronger grip than I had quite bargained for.

"And now," said I, "before I tell you what I have brought, you must
promise me to accept it. Your father said I was not to leave you till
you had done so, and I was to say that he sent it with his dying
blessing."

After due demur George gave his promise, and I took him to the place
where I had hidden my knapsack.

"I brought it up yester