--bring the lamps."

Choking back a sob, Dan crossed the floor and knelt down by the chair.

"We have come back, grandpa," he said. "We beg your pardon, and we have
come back--Big Abel and I."

For a moment the Major stared at him in silence; then he reached out and
felt him with shaking hands as if he mistrusted the vision of his eyes.

"So you're back, Champe, my boy," he muttered. "My eyes are bad--I thought
at first that it was Dan--that it was Dan."

"It is I, grandpa," said Dan, slowly. "It is I--and Big Abel, too. We are
sorry for it all--for everything, and we have come back poorer than we went
away."

A light broke over the old man's face, and he stretched out his arms with a
great cry that filled the room as his head fell forward on his grandson's
breast. Then, when Mrs. Lightfoot appeared in the doorway, he controlled
himself with a gasp and struggled to his feet.

"Welcome home, my son," he said ceremoniously, as he put out his quivering
hands, "and welcome home, Big Abel."

The old lady went into Dan's arms as he turned, and looking over her head,
he saw Betty coming toward him with a lamp shining in her hand.

"My child, here is one of our soldiers," cried the Major, in joyful tones,
and as the girl placed the lamp upon the table, she turned and met Dan's
eyes.

"It is the second time I've come home like this, Betty," he said, "only I'm
a worse beggar now than I was at first."

Betty shook his hand warmly and smiled into his serious face.

"I dare say you're hungrier," she responded cheerfully, "but we'll soon
mend that, Mrs. Lightfoot and I. We are of one mind with Uncle Bill, who,
when Mr. Blake asked him the other day what we ought to do for our returned
soldiers, replied as quick as that, 'Feed 'em, sir.'"

The Major laughed with misty eyes.

"You can't get Betty to look on the dark side, my boy," he declared, though
Dan, watching the girl, saw that her face in repose had grown very sad.
Only the old beaming smile brought the brightness now.

"Well, I hope she will turn up the cheerful part of this outlook," he said,
surrendering himself to the noisy welcome of Cupid and Aunt Rhody.

"We may trust her--we may trust her," replied the old man as he settled
himself back into his chair. "If there isn't any sunshine, Betty will make
it for us herself."

Dan met the girl's glance for an instant, and then looked at the old
negroes hanging upon his hands.

"Yes, the prodigal is back," he a