Chapter XXIII
THE LAND OF GOLDEN DREAMS
When he returned to life he was in his mother's arms. There werefamiliar faces round him, and, as out of a mist, familiar voicessounded in his ear.
He turned in his bed--for it was on a bed he was lying, and no longeron the stony ground--and opened his eyes, waking as from a deliciousslumber.
Some one bent over him; some one laid a hand softly on his brow; someone's burning tears fell on his cheek. There was his mother standingby his side.
"My boy! my boy! Thank God for this, my darling boy!"
Then she kissed him; and she wept.
Out of the mist there came another familiar form. It was his father.
"Bertie! at last! Thank God for this, indeed, my son!"
And he, too, stooped and kissed the lad. And the mother rose to herfeet, and became encircled in her husband's arms; and they tworejoiced together over the son who was lost and was found.
He had been ill six weeks. Six weeks delirious with fever; six weekshovering between life and death; six weeks' sorrow; six weeks' pain.That was the end of his journey.
And it would have had another ending had it not been for theprovidence of God. He would have journeyed into that strange, unknowncountry, whose name is Death, but that he was found by the roadside,where he had fallen, and by a friend. It would be unwise to say thatthat friend was not sent to him direct from God.
Among his father's patients was a certain Mr. Yates. Mr. Yates was acounty magistrate, a man of position and of wealth. Under God he owedhis life to Dr. Bailey's skill. It was to him reference has been madeas having given Bertie half a sovereign once upon a time--half asovereign which, to Bertie's disgust, he had had to divide with hisbrothers and sisters.
Mr. Yates had known the youngster well. He was a bachelor, and hadallowed the boy to run in and out almost as he pleased. On the eve ofstarting on a tour to Brittany he had heard that the young gentlemanhad disappeared from school, no one knew why, no one knew whither.There was a pretty to-do when it was known. It was almost the laststraw for Mr. Fletcher, that last straw which, according to theproverb, breaks the camel's back.
In his bewilderment--in the general bewilderment, indeed--Dr. Baileyhad not hesitated to lay his son's disappearance at Mr. Fletcher'sdoor. He declared that he was alone to blame, that some act ofremissness, some act of even positive cruelty must have goaded the ladinto taking such a step.
The boy had left no trace behind. The distracted father advertised forhim right and left, placed the matter in the hands of the police,seeking for him on every side without finding the slightest clue totell him if his son were alive or dead.
Matters were in this state when Mr. Yates had left for Brittany. Hehad been there some days, when, wandering somewhat out of the beatentrack, he had chartered a carriage at Morlaix to take him up amongthose wind-swept slopes which are grandiloquently termed the Montagnesd'Arree, and land him at the little town of Huelgoet. There are one ortwo things which people go to see at Huelgoet, but the place becamememorable to Mr. Yates for what he saw upon the road.
He was about half-way to his destination when he observed, lying amongthe furze at the roadside, a lad. He might not have noticed him hadnot the boy been emitting cries of so peculiar a kind that they couldscarcely have failed to catch a traveller's ear. Going to see what wasthe matter, he perceived at once that the lad was delirious withfever.
With some difficulty he persuaded the driver of the vehicle to conveyso dubious a passenger. The same difficulty occurred at the Huelgoethotel before they would let him in. It was only when he had undertakento recoup them for any losses they might sustain, and had got the ladcomfortably in bed, that he discovered that the waif who had found inhim such a good Samaritan was none other than Bertie Bailey.
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So soon as they could move him they took him home. And, as he enteredthe old familiar home, he knew in his heart that this place which hewas entering was in fact the Land of Golden Dreams. He had been insearch of it afar off, and he had been a native of the country all thetime. And there are many natives of that country who throw away thesubstance to grasp the shadow, not realizing their folly till thething is done.
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They never found the "captain" nor "Mr. Rosenheim." In due time Bertietold his story, and the doctor thought it so strange an one that hefelt in duty bound to communicate with the police. A detective cameand heard all that Bertie had to say. He asked a hundred puzzlingquestions; but, although not always able to answer them to thedetective's satisfaction, Bertie stuck to his tale. They took him topoint out the house which had contained the "captain's room," but hehad been a stranger in the great city, at night, hungry and worn. Hehad gone blindly where he had been taken, not noticing a singlelandmark by the way, and now when they asked him to retrace his steps,and lead them where Freddy had led him, he found it impossible todiscover the house again.
So it came to pass that the police looked at his story with doubtfuleyes. And for that cause--or some other--nothing has been heard of theCountess of Ferndale's jewels unto this day.
* * * * * Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London.
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