Page:Walpole--portrait of man with red hair.djvu/244

 as though he were truly her father. "Poor child!" he said, "poor child!"

She trembled in his arms.

"You" she began. "You? Don't you?" She could say no more.

"I'm your friend," he answered, "to the end of life. Your old avuncular friend. That's my job. Think of your young friend freshly. See what a fellow he is. I tell you that's a man!"

She did not answer him, but stayed there hiding her head in his coat.

There was a long silence, then, stroking her hair, he said:

"Hesther dear, I'm going to try once again." He got up and, putting his hands trumpetwise to his mouth, shouted through the fog:

"Dunbar! Dunbar! Dunbar!"

This time there was an answer, clear and definite. "Hallo! Hallo! Hallo!" He turned excitedly to her. She also sprang to his feet. "He's there! I can hear him!"

"Dunbar! Dunbar!"

The answer came more clearly: "Hallo! Hallo! Hallo!"

They continued to exchange cries. Sometimes the reply was faint. Once it seemed to be lost altogether. Then suddenly it was close at hand. A ghostly figure was shadowed.

Dunbar came running.