At Large. Hornung Ernest William

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СКАЧАТЬ degree. Burnt, like Dick's, to the colour of brick-dust, it was framed in dark curly hair, with beard and whiskers of a fairer hue, while the mouth was hidden by a still fairer, almost golden, moustache. The effect was leonine. Dick caught his profile, and saw that the steady, downward gaze was bent upon the dainty little head that glowed in the lamplight. From his vantage-post outside the window he glanced from observer to observed. They were a sufficiently good-looking pair, yet he overrated the one and underrated the other. He was by no means attracted to this unknown exquisite; there was an ease about his pose which bespoke freedom also; and his scrutiny of the unconscious girl was of a kind that would at least have irritated any man in Dick's position.

      Dick allowed his attention to rest but briefly upon the third occupant of the room – a man with snowy hair and whiskers, who was apparently dropping off to sleep in a big armchair. Somehow or other, the sight of the men – but particularly of the stranger – acted on his heart like a shower-bath on a man's head; his pulse slackened, he regained with interest the self-possession with which he had first approached the window. He took three steps forward, and stood in the middle of the room.

      A startled cry escaped the old man and the girl. The man by the fireplace dropped his forearm and turned his head three inches.

      Dick strode forward and grasped an outstretched hand.

      "Colonel Bristo!"

      "Dick Edmonstone! – is it really Dick?" a well-remembered voice repeated a dozen times. "We knew you were on your way home, but – bless my soul! bless my soul!"

      The old soldier could think of nothing else to say; nor did it matter, for Dick's salute was over and his back turned; he was already clasping the hand of the fair young girl, who had risen, flushed and breathless, to greet him.

      He was speechless. He tried to say "Alice," but the sound was inarticulate. Their eyes met.

      A clatter in the fender. The tall man's heel had come down heavily among the fire-irons.

      "Let me introduce you," said Colonel Bristo to this man and Dick. "You will like to know each other, since you both come from the same country: Mr. Edmonstone, from Australia; Mr. Miles, from Australia! Mr. Miles was born and bred there, Dick, and has never been in England before. So you will be able to compare notes."

      The two men stared at each other and shook hands.

      V

      THE FIRST EVENING AT GRAYSBROOKE

      "Sit down, boy, sit down," said Colonel Bristo, "and let us have a look at you. Mind, we don't know yet that you're not an impostor. You should have brought proofs."

      "Here are five-foot-ten of them," said Dick, laughing.

      "To believe that, we must put you through examination – and cross-examination," the Colonel added with a glance at his daughter; "although I half believe you really are the man you profess to be. What do you say, Alice?"

      "I have a strong case – " Dick was beginning, but he was cut short.

      "It is Dick," said the oracle sweetly.

      "You take his word for it?" asked her father.

      "No, I identify him," Alice answered with a quiet smile; "and he hasn't altered so very much, when one looks at him."

      Dick turned his head and met her eyes; they were serene and friendly. "Thank you," he said to her, with gratitude in his voice. And, indeed, he felt grateful to them all; to the Colonel for his ponderous pleasantry, to Alice for her unembarrassed manner, to Mr. Miles for the good taste he showed in minding his own business. (He had strolled over to the window.)

      "And when did you land?" inquired the Colonel.

      "This morning."

      "Only this morning!" exclaimed Alice; "then I think it was too good of you to come and see us so soon; don't you, papa?"

      Very kind of him indeed, papa thought. Dick was pleased; but he thought they might have understood his eagerness. Alice, at any rate, should not have been surprised – and probably was not. "I couldn't put it off," he said, frankly.

      There was a slight pause; then the Colonel spoke:

      "That's kindly said, my boy; and if your mother knew how it does us good to see you here, she would scarcely grudge us an hour or two this evening – though grudge it you may depend she does. As for ourselves, Dick, we can hardly realise that you are back among us."

      "I can't realise it at all," murmured Dick, aloud but to himself.

      "I won't worry you by asking point-blank how you like Australia," the Colonel went on, "for that's a daily nuisance in store for you for the next six months. But I may tell you we expect some tough yarns of you; our taste has been tickled by Miles, who has some miraculous – why, where is Miles?"

      Miles had vanished.

      "What made him go, I wonder?" asked Alice, with the slightest perceptible annoyance. Dick did not perceive it, but he thought the question odd. To disappear seemed to him the only thing a stranger, who was also a gentleman, could have done; he was scarcely impartial on the point, however.

      Alice took up the theme which her father had dropped.

      "Oh, Mr. Miles has some wonderful stories," said she; "he has had some tremendous adventures."

      "The deuce he has!" thought Dick, but he only said: "You should take travellers' tales with a grain of salt."

      "Thanks," Alice instantly retorted; "I shall remember that when you tell yours."

      They laughed over the retort. All three began to feel quite at ease.

      "So you kept up your sketching out there, and drew bush scenes for our illustrated papers?" said the Colonel.

      "Two or three times; more often for the Colonial papers."

      "We saw them all," said Alice, graciously – "I mean the English ones. We cut them out and kept them." (She should have said that she did.)

      "Did you, though?" said Dick, delighted.

      "Yes," said Alice, "and I have a crow to pick with you about them. That 'Week in the Sandwich Islands' – it was yours, wasn't it?"

      Dick admitted that it was.

      "Oh, and pray when were you in the Sandwich Islands?"

      He confessed that he had never seen them.

      "So you not only cheated a popular journal – a nice thing to do! – but deceived the British public, which is a far more serious matter. What explanation have you to offer? What apology to 'One who was Deceived' – as I shall sign my 'Times' letter, when I write it?"

      "Alice, you are an inquisitor," said Colonel Bristo. But Alice replied with such a mischievous, interested smile that Dick immediately ceased to feel ashamed of himself.

      "The fact is," he owned, "your popular journal doesn't care a fig whether one has been to a place so long as one's sketches of it are attractive. I did them a thing once of a bullock-dray stuck up in the mud; and how did it appear? 'The War at the Cape: Difficulties in Reaching the Front.' And they had altered the horns of my bullocks, if you please, to make 'em into South African cattle! You see, just then Africa was of more interest to your British public СКАЧАТЬ