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Dreams and Dream Stories by Anna Bonus Kingsford
page 89 of 288 (30%)
to be renewed before daybreak with fresh assistance from the nearest
village. Some of the new-comers spoke of a cave on the slope of
the meadow, into which the boy might have crept. This was easily
reached. It was apparently of but small extent; a few goats
reposed in it, but no trace of the child was discoverable. After
some days spent in futile endeavour, all hope was abandoned. The
father returned to England to mourn his lost boy, and another disaster
was added to the annual list of casualties in the Alps.

So far the story was sad enough, but hardly romantic. I clasped
the hand of the narrator, and assured him warmly of my sympathy,
adding, with as little appearance of curiosity as I could command:--

"And your object in coming back is only, then, to--to--be near the
scene of your great trouble?"

"No, Mr Roy; that is not the motive of my journey. I do not believe
either that my boy's corpse lies concealed among the grasses of the
plateau, or that it was swept away, as has been suggested, by the
mountain cataract. Neither hypothesis seems to me tenable. The
bed of the stream was followed and searched for miles; and though,
when he fell, he was carrying over his shoulder a flask and a thick
fur-lined cloak,--for we expected cold on the heights, and went
provided against it,---not a fragment of anything belonging to him
was found. Had he fallen into the torrent, it is impossible his
clothing should not have become detached from the body and caught
by the innumerable rocks in the shallow parts of the stream. But
that is not all. I have another reason for the belief I cherish."
He leaned forward, and added in firmer and slower tones: "I am
convinced that my boy still lives, for--I have seen him."
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