The stranger was a man of about thirty years of age, heavily bearded.
His face had the appearance of one who had experienced much suffering,
and his staring eyes were deep-sunken in their sockets. Mrs. Britt had
given him only a brief glance, but that was sufficient to remind her of
one who was constantly in her mind. When the captain and the doctor
were again back in the kitchen discussing the stranger, she stole to
his side, and looked intently upon his face. She held the light close,
and as she did so she trembled so violently that she almost let the
lamp fall from her hand. Recovering herself, she went immediately to
her husband's side and touched his shoulder.
"It's Jimmy!" she cried, clasping her hands before her. "It's our own
boy!"
With a startled exclamation, the captain sprang to his feet, and looked
questioningly at his wife.
"Jimmy, did you say? In there?"
"Yes, I am sure of it. Come, see for yourself," and Mrs. Britt led her
half-dazed husband into the little bed-room.
The doctor remained behind in the kitchen. His thoughts, however, were
not upon his pipe, which was sending wreaths of blue smoke into the
air. He was thinking of far deeper things.
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