As he did so the last time it was answered by a _hulloo_ from
the rocks above, and shortly afterward Meroo, the scullion's, blubbering
voice could be heard as he uttered thanks to Heaven.
"And the others?" asked Roy anxiously, as out of the darkness Meroo
appeared and cast himself at the lad's feet, bellowing joy.
"They come, they come! They are but a short way back. I saw the fire,
and the sight of it warmed the cockles of my heart! Lo! I shall cook
once more! I shall not die hungry in the wilderness. Nay! go not," for
Roy was starting up. "True! the women are nigh dead, and Foster-father
hath his fingers frost-bitten, but--nay, put more flame to the fire,
boy! It is the fire they need!"
He was half beside himself, but he was right. As the fresh juniper
branches blazed up Head-nurse came tottering and stumbling into its
light. Roy sprang to help her, but she pushed him aside.
"The Heir-to-Empire?" she muttered, her lips almost refusing to form the
words. "The Heir-to-Empire, the Admired-of-the-World----"
Roy pointed to the little tent. "There! Safe! Well! Asleep!" he cried;
and the poor woman with a sob sank as she stood, and lay prone muttering
long strings of titles.
Before a minute had passed Foster-father and Foster-mother struggled
into the circle of light, and after a word of question and reply, sank
down also.
Then there was a long pause, but no sign came of good Old Faithful's
tall, gaunt figure.
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