“Where?” “He just walked by, with a smaller boy alongside.” “You don’t say so!” uttered Mr. Jones, hardly knowing whether to be glad or sorry. “Well, he’s come in time to bid good-by to his old home. I’ll go up to-morrow, first thing, and settle this matter. I s’pose they’ll try to beg off, but it won’t be any use.” Robert had written to the hermit from Columbus a letter which conveyed the glad tidings of his success. It filled the heart of the recluse with a great and abounding joy. Life seemed wholly changed for him. Now he felt that he had something to live for, and he determined to change his course of life entirely. He would move to Boston or New York and resume the social position which he had abandoned. There he would devote himself to the training and education of his boy. And Robert--yes, he would richly reward the boy who had restored to him the son lost so long. He would not yet decide what he would do for him, but he felt that there was no reward too great for such a service. He knew on what day to expect the two boys, for Robert had informed him by letter. Restless, he waited for the moment which should restore his son to his arms. He took a position on the beach in front of the entrance to the cave and looked anxiously for the approach of the two boys. No longer was he clad in his hermit dress, but from a trunk he had drawn out a long-disused suit, made for him in other days by a fashionable tailor on Broadway, and he had carefully trimmed and combed his neglected locks. “My boy must not be ashamed of my appearance,” he said proudly. “My hermit life is over. Henceforth I will live as a man among men.” Presently his waiting glance was rewarded. Two boys, one of whom he recognized as Robert, descended the cliff and walked briskly toward him on the firm sand beach. He did not wait now, but hurried toward them. He fixed his eyes eagerly upon the second boy. Julian had much improved in appearance since we first made his acquaintance. It does not take long to restore strength and bloom into a boy of sixteen. He was slender still, but the hue of health mantled his cheeks; he was no longer sad, but hopeful, and in his delicate and refined features his father could see a strong resemblance to the wife he had lost. “Julian!” said Robert Coverdale, “that’s your father who is coming. Let him see that you are glad to meet him. “Mr. Huet,” he said, “this is your son.” “You do not need to tell me. He is too like his mother. Julian, my boy, Heaven be praised that has restored you to me!” It is hardly to be expected that Julian should feel the rapture that swelled the father’s heart, for the thought of having a father at all was still new and strange, but it was not long before he learned to love him. The poor boy had received so little kindness that his father’s warm affection touched his heart, and he felt glad and happy to have such a protector.