?"

"That's what I want to tell you, Fledra. Look at me, dear heart."

The eyes, wandering first from his face, then to the door, fell upon
him. They seemed to demand the truth, and he dared not utter a lie to
her.

"By some crooked work, which Everett and the squatter--"

His words brought back Horace's story. A strange horror paled her cheeks
and widened her eyes.

"That man, the one who called himself her father, took her back to
Ithaca. Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

As she attempted to rise, Vandecar pushed her gently back into the chair
and said:

"I'm going for her, Beloved, and Horace has already gone--Wait--wait!"

Vandecar was at the door in an instant, and when he opened it Ann
appeared, leading Floyd by the hand. Mrs. Vandecar's eyes fastened
themselves upon the boy, and, when Ann pushed him toward her, she rose
and held out her arms.

Floyd was taller than she, and he stood considering her calmly, almost
critically. He had been told by Miss Shellington that he would see his
mother, and as he looked a hundred things tore through his mind in a
single instant. This little woman, with fluttering white hands extended
toward him, was his--his very own! He felt suddenly uplifted with a
masculine desire to protect her. She looked so tiny, so frail! He was
filled with strength and power, and so glad was his heart that it sang
loudly and thumped until he heard a buzzing behind his ears. Suddenly he
blurted out:

"I'd a known ye were mine if I'd a met ye any place!"

Governor Vandecar hurriedly left them and telephoned for a special train
to take him to Ithaca. He entered his library and summoned Katherine. He
talked long to her in low tones, and when he had finished he put his arm
about the weeping girl and said softly:

"And you'll come with us, Katherine, dear, and help me bring back my
girl? I shall ask Ann to go with us."

"Oh, uncle, dear, you know I will go! And, oh, how glad I am that you've
found them!"

"Thank you, child. Now, if you'll run away and make the necessary
preparations, we'll start immediately."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

During the days of the passage through the Erie Canal, Fledra had
remained on the deck of the scow when it was light. The spring days were
beautiful, too beautiful to be in accord with her sadness. Yet only when
they entered into Cayuga Lake did acute apprehension rise within her.
They were now in familiar waters, and she knew the end would soon co