of the clock, and smiled at her companion.

"Five minutes more, and your father will be here! Four minutes more! Ah!
There it is!" and she pointed to a slope in the distance where a slight
trail of smoke rose white against the blue of the sky, now clear of
cloud. "Can't you see it? That is the steam from the engine coming out
of the tunnel."

Ere she finished speaking the quivering whir of the bell echoed through
the empty station.

"Ah!" said Charles Rambert: "at last!"

The two porters who, with the stationmaster, constituted the entire
railway staff at Verrieres, came bustling along the platform, and while
the bell continued its monotonous whirring ring, pulled forward trucks
in readiness for any possible luggage. Puffing portentously, the engine
slackened speed, and the heavy train slowed down and finally stopped,
bringing a noisy atmosphere of life into the station of Verrieres that
but a moment ago was so still.

The first-class carriages had stopped immediately in front of Charles
and Therese, and on the footboard Etienne Rambert stood, a tall, elderly
man of distinguished appearance, proud bearing and energetic attitude,
with extraordinarily keen eyes and an unusually high and intelligent
forehead. Seeing Therese and Charles he seized his baggage and in a
twinkling had sprung on to the platform. He dropped his valise, tossed
his bundle of rugs on to a seat, and gripped Charles by the two
shoulders.

"My boy!" he exclaimed; "my dear boy!"

Although he had hitherto shown so little affection for his child, it was
obvious that the man was making a great effort to restrain his emotion,
and was really moved when he now saw him again as a grown young man.

Nor, on his part, did Charles Rambert remain unmoved. As if the sudden
grip of this almost stranger, who yet was his father, had awakened a
world of memories within him, he turned very pale and his voice faltered
as he replied:

"Papa! Dear papa! I am so glad to see you!"

Therese had drawn tactfully aside. M. Rambert still held his son by the
shoulders and stepped back a pace, the better to consider him.

"Why, you are a man! How you have altered, my boy! You are just what I
hoped you would be: tall and strong! Ah, you are my son all right! And
you are quite well, hey? Yet you look tired."

"I did not sleep well," Charles explained with a smile. "I was afraid I
should not wake up."

Turning his head, M. Rambert saw Therese and held out his hand.