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Have the goodness to step down and report the matter to Captain Vavassour, if you please." There was no need, however; for the Captain, who had been reading in his cabin, had heard voices, and had come up on deck to see what was the matter. Then ensued another brief but intensely exasperating period of waiting until another flash came and once more betrayed the stranger's whereabouts.
"I did my best to try and persuade her to join us," continued Mrs Jefferson, after duly agreeing with Mrs Masterman that perhaps the stranger's hair was a shade too black, and her height too tall, and her complexion too pale and that there was something uncanny in the expression of the dark wild eyes, "more like the eyes of a horse than a human being," was Mrs Masterman's verdict.
The stranger's head went up a little higher than its wont, and the proud look on the pale face deepened as he declined the tobacco civilly, as he had the cigar. "Wall, now, don't chew tobacky? You lose a good deal. I couldn't live without it.
To this query young Somerville, who stood in advance of his friend, made no reply, but stepping hastily forward, laid a hand on each of the stranger's shoulders, and gazed earnestly into his face, exclaiming as he did so "Do my eyes deceive me? Is Charley Kennedy before me or his ghost?"
"The great, white light which plays upon a throne" is not more searching than that which follows the movements of a possible Live One in a moribund mining camp, and, in spite of his puttees, Ore City hoped against hope that some benefit might be derived from the stranger's presence.
Somewhere at the back of the Garden, a piercing whistle cut the air evidently a signal and suddenly we found ourselves facing a ghastly tragedy, and were made to realise the resistless superiority of a small body of disciplined troops over a disorganised multitude. "Fertig! Los! Every face in that tremendous throng turned at once in the direction of the stranger's voice.
And, to say all in a word, everything which belongs to the body is a stream, and what belongs to the soul is a dream and vapor, and life is a warfare and a stranger's sojourn, and after fame is oblivion. What then is that which is able to conduct a man? One thing, and only one, philosophy.
On recovering her senses, she exclaimed, 'Good Heavens! he is the very image of his unfortunate mother! On calmer reflection, however, she was but half convinced, and determined to put the stranger's identity to another test. She had kept as a relic a little blue robe with metal buttons, which was worn by the royal infant when she nursed him.
The stranger's smile grew so very broad that it seemed to fill the room like an outburst of the sun gleaming into a shadowy dell where the yellow autumnal leaves for so looked the lumps and particles of gold lie strewn in the glow of light. "The Golden Touch!" exclaimed he. "You certainly deserve credit, friend Midas, for striking out so brilliant a conception.
And let us leave the matter as it is; do not torture me any more, it would be too cruel of you." Then, quivering like a woman who suddenly perceives that she is bare, in a stranger's presence, she hastily pulled down her sleeves, and even drew them over her hands as if to leave naught of her person visible. And afterwards she rose and walked away without adding a single word.
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