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Updated: May 24, 2025
At the receipt of custom behind the bar sat Miss Benjafield, stately as ever, relaxing her massive mind over a penny novelette. 'Who was the man who just left, Miss Benjafield? I asked. She marked the place with a shapely thumb and looked up. 'The man? Oh, him! He's why, weren't you in here, Mr Burns, one evening in January when 'That American? 'That's him. What he's doing here I don't know.
We had hardly seated ourselves when he rose and lurched out. I saw him pass the window, and his assertion that no crowned head should molest his dog came faintly to my ears as he went down the street. 'American! said Miss Benjafield, the stately barmaid, with strong disapproval. 'They're all alike.
Then raising her voice to a thin scream, she continued: "I shall write to the general post-office on this subject; it is quite intolerable that in any part of England Her Majesty's Post should be entrusted to incapable hands." Old Benjafield, fumbling in his bag, produced two letters which he presented to Catherine.
Unless there were two men in the neighbourhood of Sanstead who hailed from the Bowery, this must be the man I had seen at the 'Feathers' who had incurred the disapproval of Miss Benjafield. 'I haven't the faintest idea what you mean, I said. 'What is my game? His voice became reproachful again. 'Ah chee! he protested.
If she had known that the old postman Benjafield had left a letter by the very same post for Miss Hart at the lodge, and that this letter in a disguised hand bore within the undoubted signature of her own beloved captain, her rejoicing would not have been so keen. But as people are very seldom allowed to see behind the scenes Mrs. Bertram may as well have her short hour of triumph undisturbed.
Benjafield had a very slow and aggravating gait. The more impatient people were for their letters, the more tedious was he in his delivery. Benjafield had been a fisherman in his day, and had a very sharp, withered old face. He had a blind eye, too, and walked by the aid of a crutch but it was his boast that, notwithstanding his one eye and his lameness, no one had ever yet got the better of him.
I never contradict Miss Benjafield one would as soon contradict the Statue of Liberty so I merely breathed sympathetically. 'What's he here for I'd like to know? It occurred to me that I also should like to know. In another thirty hours I was to find out.
It gave her a very imposing appearance, and the effect of her evening dress and her handsome face and imperious manners were so overpowering that the old postman, as he hobbled toward her, had to mutter under his breath: "Don't forget your game leg, Benjafield, nor your wall eye, and don't you be tooken down nor beholden to nobody." "Why is the post so late?" inquired Mrs. Bertram.
He was not overwhelmed by the aristocracy of Rosendale Manor, and, notwithstanding Mrs. Bertram's open annoyance, insisted on calling there last. He said it suited him best to do so, and what suited Sammy Benjafield he was just as determined to do, as Mrs. Bertram was to carry out her own schemes. Consequently, the evening letters never reached the Manor until between eight and half-past. Mrs.
She started when she saw the handwriting, instantly forgot old Benjafield, and disappeared into the house. When she was gone Mabel danced up to her sister's side, and looked over her shoulder at the thick envelope addressed in the manly hand. "Kate, it's from Loftie!" she exclaimed. "Yes, it's from Loftie," responded Catherine. "Let us come and sit under the elm-tree and read what he says, May."
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