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One circumstance I shall never forget: it was the last of January, 1815, when two of these half-pay officers one was a large, austere, gray-haired man, known as Colonel Falconette, who appeared to have served in the infantry, the other was short and thick and they called him Commandant Margarot, and he still wore his hussar whiskers came to us and proposed to sell a splendid watch.
Within, a little, old, sweet-faced, gray-haired woman stood behind the counter, pottering over the rearrangement of some articles on the shelves. "My word!" said Jimmie Dale softly to himself. "You wouldn't believe it, would you! And I've always wondered how these little stores managed to make both ends meet.
The British adviser to the Chinese Government passes, a tall, distinguished, gray-haired man, talking with a burly Englishman, hunter of big game, but now, according to rumor, a member of the secret service. Concession-hunters and business men sit about in groups, representatives of great commercial and banking firms from all over the world.
That is the way the old-timers speak of it, and there is a fond pride in their voices when they allude to the subject; the same sort of pride one betrays when he tells of the wild oats sowed by a gray-haired friend during his lusty youth. For Tombstone has settled down to middle-aged conventionality and is peaceable enough to-day for any man. But in the early eighties!
And so I laughed, my laughter woke The household with its noise, And wrote my dream, when morning broke, To please the gray-haired boys. Of course I shall have a great many conversations to report, and they will necessarily be of different tone and on different subjects. The talks are like the breakfasts, sometimes dipped toast, and sometimes dry. You must take them as they come.
Here tears stifled her voice, and obeying the desire to pour out to another the overflowing gratitude and love which had taken possession of her soul, she threw herself upon the gray-haired attendant's breast, and amid her weeping exclaimed: "I shall see him with these eyes, I can clasp his hand, I shall hear his voice that voice His first cry A thousand times, waking and sleeping, I have fancied I heard it again.
"Niver agin, Wullie; not if the Queen were to ask it." Then he went out into the gloom and drizzle, still smiling the same bitter smile. That night, when it came to closing-time at the Sylvester Arms, Jem Burton found a little gray-haired figure lying on the floor in the tap-room. At the little man's head lay a great dog.
A kindly, gray-haired nurse was working with papers and she dug deep into the pile in response to Frank's query. "We didn't find much on him. An identification card with the name William Matson. Nothing else except a wallet initialed W. M. containing thirty-six dollars in cash." "Nothing else?" The gray-haired nurse shook her head.
Madeleine was carried to her bedroom, and Gaston, who saw the marquis kneeling at his son's bier, noiselessly went away. Hardly had he left the room, when the door was slowly opened and a gray-haired man entered. He saw the grief-stricken father beside his son's corpse, and an expression of deep sympathy crossed his stony face. Softly walking behind the marquis, he laid his hand upon his shoulder.
They speculated about it at the office: "'G. Washington's' got a grouch on," one clerk said; "probably told the truth and lost a transfer! Let's give him another hatchet." And the friendly people at the boarding house noticed the change in him. He had almost nothing to say, now, at dinner no more jokes with the school-teacher, no more eager talks with the gray-haired woman....
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