Sheputherfingersoverhereyes。"It’shorribletocomplain！Onlyit’ssobad！ButIwon’tagain——promise。
　　Shetookthesleepingdraughtgratefully，makingaface，likeachildafterapowder。
　　"Howlongdoyouthinkit’llbebeforeIcanplayagain？Oh！I
　　forgot——thereareotherthingstothinkabout。"Sheheldoutherhandtome。"Lookatmyring。Married——isn’titfunny？Ha，ha！
　　Nobodywilleverunderstand——that’sfunnytoo！PoorGran！Yousee，therewasn’tanyreason——onlyme。That’stheonlyreasonI’mtellingyounow;Mumsisthere——butshedoesn’tcount;whydon’tyoucount，Mums？"
　　Thefeverwasfightingagainstthedraught;shehadtossedtheclothesbackfromherthroat，andnowandthenraisedonethinarmalittle，asifiteasedher;hereyeshadgrownlarge，andinnocentlikeachild’s;thecandle，too，hadflared，andwasburningclearly。
　　"Nobodyistotellhim——nobodyatall;promise……！IfIhadn’tslipped，itwouldhavebeendifferent。Whatwouldhavehappenedthen？Youcan’ttell;andIcan’t——that’sfunny！DoyouthinkI
　　lovedhim？Nobodymarrieswithoutlove，dothey？Notquitewithoutlove，Imean。ButyouseeIwantedtobefree，hesaidhe’dtakeme;
　　andnowhe’sleftmeafterall！Iwon’tbeleft，Ican’t！WhenI
　　cametothecliff——thatbitwheretheivygrowsrightdown——therewasjusttheseathere，underneath;soIthoughtIwouldthrowmyselfoveranditwouldbeallquiet;andIclimbedonaledge，itlookedeasierfromthere，butitwassohigh，Iwantedtogetback;andthenmyfootslipped;andnowit’sallpain。Youcan’tthinkmuch，whenyou’reinpain。"
　　>FromhereyesIsawthatshewasdroppingoff。
　　"Nobodycantakeyouawayfrom—yourself。He’snottobetold——noteven——Idon’t——wantyou——togoaway，because——"Buthereyesclosed，andshedroppedofftosleep。
　　Theydon’tseemtoknowthismorningwhethersheisbetterorworse……
　　VI
　　"Tuesday，9thAugust。
　　ItseemsmorelikethreeweeksthanthreedayssinceIwrote。Thetimepassesslowlyinasickhouse……！Thedoctorswereherethismorning，theygiveherfortyhours。Notawordofcomplainthaspassedherlipssincesheknew。Toseeheryouwouldhardlythinkherill;hercheekshavenothadtimetowasteorlosetheircolour。
　　Thereisnotmuchpain，butaslow，creepingnumbness……ItwasJohnFord’swishthatsheshouldbetold。Shejustturnedherheadtothewallandsighed;thentopooroldMrs。Hopgood，whowascryingherheartout:"Don’tcry，Mums，Idon’tcare。"
　　Whentheyhadgone，sheaskedforherviolin。Shemadethemholditforher，anddrewthebowacrossthestrings;butthenotesthatcameoutweresotremblinganduncertainthatshedroppedthebowandbrokeintoapassionofsobbing。Sincethen，nocomplaintormoanofanykind……
　　Buttogoback。OnSunday，thedayafterIwrote，asIwascomingfromawalk，Imetalittleboymakingmournfulsoundsonatinwhistle。
　　"Coomahn！"hesaid，"theMisswahntst’zeeyu。"
　　Iwenttoherroom。Inthemorningshehadseemedbetter，butnowlookedutterlyexhausted。Shehadaletterinherhand。
　　"It’sthis，"shesaid。"Idon’tseemtounderstandit。Hewantsmetodosomething——butIcan’tthink，andmyeyesfeelfunny。Readittome，please。"
　　TheletterwasfromZachary。Ireadittoherinalowvoice，forMrs。Hopgoodwasintheroom，hereyesalwaysfixedonPasianceaboveherknitting。WhenI’dfinished，shemademereaditagain，andyetagain。Atfirstsheseemedpleased，almostexcited，thencameaweary，scornfullook，andbeforeI’dfinishedthethirdtimeshewasasleep。Itwasaremarkableletter，thatseemedtobringthemanrightbeforeone’seyes。Islippeditunderherfingersonthebed—
　　clothes，andwentout。Fancytookmetothecliffwhereshehadfallen。Ifoundthepointofrockwherethecascadeofivyflowsdownthecliff;theledgeonwhichshehadclimbedwasalittletomyright——amadplace。Itshowedplainlywhatwildemotionsmusthavebeendrivingher！Behindwasahalf—cutcornfieldwithafringeofpoppies，andswarmsofharvestinsectscreepingandflying;intheuncutcornalandrailkeptupacontinualcharring。Theskywasbluetotheveryhorizon，andtheseawonderful，underthatblackwildcliffstainedhereandtherewithred。Overthedipsandhollowsofthefieldsgreatwhitecloudshunglowdownabovetheland。Therearenobrassy，east—coastskieshere;butalwayssleepy，soft—shapedclouds，fullofsubtlestirandchange。PassagesofZachary’sPearse’sletterkeptrisingtomylips。Afterallhe’sthemanthathisnativeplace，andlife，andbloodhavemadehim。Itisuselesstoexpectidealistswheretheairissoftandthingsgoodtolookon（theidealistgrowswherehemustcreatebeautyorcomfortforhimself）;uselesstoexpectamanoflawandorder，inonewhosefathershavestaredattheseadayandnightforathousandyears——
　　thesea，fullofitspromisesofunknownthings，neverquitethesame，aslavetoitsownimpulses。Manisanimitativeanimal……
　　"Life’shardenough，"hewrote，"withouttyingyourselfdown。Don’tthinktoohardlyofme！ShallImakeyouhappierbytakingyouintodanger？IfIsucceedyou’llbearichwoman;butIshallfailifyou’rewithme。Tolookatyoumakesmesoft。Atseaamandreamsofallthegoodthingsonland，he’lldreamoftheheather，andhoney——you’relikethat;andhe’lldreamoftheapple—trees，andthegrassoftheorchards——you’relikethat;sometimesheonlyliesonhisbackandwishes——andyou’relikethat，mostofalllikethat……"
　　WhenIwasreadingthosewordsIrememberastrange，soft，half—
　　scornfullookcameoverPasiance’sface;andonceshesaid，"Butthat’sallnonsense，isn’tit……？"
　　Thenfollowedalongpassageaboutwhathewouldgainifhesucceeded，aboutallthathewasrisking，theimpossibilityoffailure，ifhekepthiswitsabouthim。"It’sonlyamatteroftwomonthsorso，"hewenton;"staywhereyouare，dear，orgotomyDad。He’llbegladtohaveyou。There’smymother’sroom。There’snoonetosay’No’toyourfiddlethere;youcanplayitbythesea;
　　andondarknightsyou’llhavethestarsdancingtoyouoverthewaterasthickasbees。I’velookedatthemoften，thinkingofyou……"
　　Pasiancehadwhisperedtome，"Don’treadthatbit，"andafterwardsI
　　leftitout……Thenthesensuoussideofhimshowsup:"WhenI’vebroughtthisoff，there’sthewholeworldbeforeus。ThereareplacesIcantakeyouto。There’soneIknow，nottoowarmandnottoocold，whereyoucansitalldayintheshadeandwatchthecreepers，andthecocoa—palms，stillasstill;nothingtodoorcareabout;allthefruitsyoucanthinkof;nonoisebuttheparrotsandthestreams，andasplashwhenaniggerdivesintoawater—hole。
　　Pasiance，we’llgothere！Withaneighty—toncraftthere’snoseawecouldn’tknow。Theworld’safineplaceforthosewhogoouttotakeit;there’slotsofunknownstuff’inityet。I’llfillyourlap，mypretty，sofulloftreasuresthatyoushan’tknowyourself。Amanwasn’tmeanttositathome……"
　　Throughoutthisletter——forallitsrealpassion——onecouldfeelhowthemanwasholdingtohispurpose——therathersordidpurposeofthisventure。He’sunconsciousofit;forheisinlovewithher;buthemustbefurtheringhisownends。Heisvital——horriblyvital！I
　　wonderlessnowthatsheshouldhaveyielded。
　　Whatvisionshasn’thedangledbeforeher。Therewasphysicalattraction，too——Ihaven’tforgottenthelookIsawonherfaceatBlackMill。Butwhenall’ssaidanddone，shemarriedhim，becauseshe’sPasianceVoisey，whodoesthingsandwants"togetback。"Andsheliestheredying;nothenoranyothermanwillevertakeheraway。It’spitifultothinkofhimtinglingwithpassion，writingthatlettertothisdoomedgirlinthatdarkholeofasaloon。"I’vewantedmoney，"hewrote，"eversinceIwasalittlechapsittinginthefieldsamongthecows……Iwantitforyounow，andImeantohaveit。I’vestudiedthethingtwoyears;IknowwhatIknow……
　　ThemomentthisisinthepostIleaveforLondon。Thereareahundredthingstolookafterstill;Ican’ttrustmyselfwithinreachofyouagaintilltheanchor’sweighed。WhenIre—christenedherthePiedWitch，Ithoughtofyou——youwitchtome……"
　　Therefollowedasolemnentreatytohertobeonthepathleadingtothecoveatseveno’clockonWednesdayevening（thatis，to—morrow）
　　whenhewouldcomeashoreandbidhergood—bye。Itwassigned，"Yourlovinghusband，ZacharyPearse……"
　　Ilayattheedgeofthatcornfieldalongtime;itwasverypeaceful。Thechurchbellshadbeguntoring。Thelongshadowscamestealingoutfromthesheaves;woodpigeonsroseonebyone，andflappedofftoroost;thewesternskywasstreakedwithred，andallthedownsandcombebathedinthelastsunlight。Perfectharvestweather;butoppressivelystill，thestillnessofsuspense……
　　Lifeatthefarmgoesonasusual。Wehavemorningandeveningprayers。JohnFordreadsthemfiercely，asthoughhewereontheeveofarevoltagainsthisGod。Morningandeveninghevisitsher，comesoutwheezingheavily，andgoestohisownroom;Ibelieve，topray。SincethismorningIhaven’tdaredmeethim。Heisastrongoldman——butthiswillbreakhimup……
　　VII
　　"KINGSWEAR，Saturday，i3tbAugust。
　　It’sover——Ileavehereto—morrow，andgoabroad。
　　Aquietafternoon——notabreathupinthechurchyard！Iwastherequitehalfanhourbeforetheycame。Someredcowshadstrayedintotheadjoiningorchard，andwererubbingtheirheadsagainsttherailing。WhileIstoodthereanoldwomancameanddrovethemaway;
　　afterwards，shestoopedandpickeduptheapplesthathadfallenbeforetheirtime。
　　"Theapplesareripeandreadytofall，Oh！heigh—ho！andreadytofall;
　　Therecameanoldwomanandgatheredthemall，Oh！heigh—ho！andgatheredthemall。"……TheybroughtPasianceverysimply——nohideousfuneraltrappings，thankGod——thefarmhandscarriedher，andtherewasnoonetherebutJohnFord，theHopgoods，myself，andthatyoungdoctor。
　　Theyreadtheserviceoverhergrave。IcanhearJohnFord’s"Amen！"
　　now。Whenitwasoverhewalkedawaybareheadedinthesun，withoutaword。Iwentupthereagainthisevening，andwanderedamongstthetombstones。"RichardVoisey，""John，thesonofRichardandConstanceVoisey，""MargeryVoisey，"somanygenerationsoftheminthatcorner;then"RichardVoiseyandAgneshiswife，"andnexttoitthatnewmoundonwhichasparrowwasstruttingandtheshadowsoftheapple—treesalreadyhovering。
　　Iwilltellyouthelittlelefttotell……
　　OnWednesdayafternoonsheaskedformeagain。
　　"It’sonlytillseven，"shewhispered。"He’scertaintocomethen。
　　ButifI——weretodiefirst——thentellhim——I’msorryforhim。Theykeepsaying:’Don’ttalk——don’ttalk！’Isn’titstupid？AsifI
　　shouldhaveanyotherchance！There’llbenomoretalkingafterto—
　　night！Makeeverybodycome，please——Iwanttoseethemall。Whenyou’redyingyou’refreerthananyothertime——nobodywantsyoutodothings，nobodycareswhatyousay……HepromisedmeIshoulddowhatIlikedifImarriedhim——Ineverbelievedthatreally——butnowIcandowhatIlike;andsayallthethingsIwantto。"Shelaybacksilent;shecouldnotafterallspeaktheinmostthoughtsthatareineachofus，sosacredthattheymeltawayattheapproachofwords。
　　Ishallrememberherlikethat——withthegleamofasmileinherhalf—closedeyes，herredlipsparted——suchaquaintlookofmockery，pleasure，regret，onherlittleround，upturnedface;theroomwhite，andfreshwithflowers，thebreezegutteringtheapple—leavesagainstthewindow。Inthenighttheyhadunhookedtheviolinandtakenitaway;shehadnotmissedit……WhenDancame，Igaveupmyplacetohim。Hetookherhandgentlyinhisgreatpaw，withoutspeaking。
　　"Howsmallmyhandlooksthere，"shesaid，"toosmall。"Danputitsoftlybackonthebedclothesandwipedhisforehead。Pasiancecriedinasharpwhisper:"Isitsohotinhere？Ididn’tknow。"Danbentdown，puthislipstoherfingersandlefttheroom。
　　Theafternoonwaslong，thelongestI’veeverspent。Sometimessheseemedtosleep，sometimeswhisperedtoherselfabouthermother，hergrandfather，thegarden，orhercats——allsortsofinconsequent，trivial，evenludicrousmemoriesseemedtothronghermind——neveronce，Ithink，didshespeakofZachary，but，nowandthen，sheaskedthetime……Eachhourshegrewvisiblyweaker。JohnFordsatbyherwithoutmoving，hisheavybreathingwasoftentheonlysound;
　　sometimessherubbedherfingersonhishand，withoutspeaking。Itwasasummaryoftheirlivestogether。Onceheprayedaloudforherinahoarsevoice;thenherpitiful，impatienteyessignedtome。
　　"Quick，"shewhispered，"Iwanthim;it’sallso——cold。"
　　Iwentoutandrandownthepathtowardsthecove。
　　LeaningonagatestoodZachary，anhourbeforehistime;dressedinthesameoldblueclothesandleather—peakedcapasonthedaywhenI
　　sawhimfirst。Heknewnothingofwhathadhappened。Butataquarterofthetruth，I’msurehedivinedthewhole，thoughhewouldnotadmitittohimself。Hekeptsaying，"Itcan’tbe。She’llbewellinafewdays——asprain！D’youthinkthesea—voyage……Isshestrongenoughtobemovednowatonce？"
　　Itwaspainfultoseehisface，sotwistedbythestrugglebetweenhisinstinctandhisvitality。Thesweatpoureddownhisforehead。
　　Heturnedroundaswewalkedupthepath，andpointedouttosea。
　　Therewashissteamer。"Icouldgetheronboardinnotime。
　　Impossible！Whatisit，then？Spine？GoodGod！Thedoctors……
　　Sometimesthey’lldowonders！"Itwaspitifultoseehiseffortstoblindhimselftothereality。
　　"Itcan’tbe，she’stooyoung。We’rewalkingveryslow。"Itoldhimshewasdying。
　　ForasecondIthoughthewasgoingtorunaway。Thenhejerkeduphishead，andrushedontowardsthehouse。Atthefootofthestaircasehegrippedmebytheshoulder。
　　"It’snottrue！"hesaid;"she’llgetbetternowI’mhere。I’llstay。Leteverythinggo。I’llstay。"
　　"Now’sthetime，"Isaid，"toshowyoulovedher。Pullyourselftogether，man！"Heshookallover。
　　"Yes！"wasallheanswered。Wewentintoherroom。Itseemedimpossibleshewasgoingtodie;thecolourwasbrightinhercheeks，herlipstremblingandpoutedasifshehadjustbeenkissed，hereyesgleaming，herhairsodarkandcrisp，herfacesoyoung……
　　HalfanhourlaterIstoletotheopendoorofherroom。Shewasstillandwhiteasthesheetsofherbed。JohnFordstoodatthefoot;and，bowedtothelevelofthepillows，hisheadonhisclenchedfists，satZachary。Itwasutterlyquiet。Thegutteringoftheleaveshadceased。Whenthingshavecometoacrisis，howlittleonefeels——nofear，nopity，nosorrow，ratherthesense，aswhenaplayisover，ofanxietytogetaway！
　　SuddenlyZacharyrose，brushedpastmewithoutseeing，andrandownstairs。
　　SomehourslaterIwentoutonthepathleadingtothecove。Itwaspitch—black;theridinglightofthePiedWitchwasstillthere，lookingnobiggerthanafirefly。ThenfrominfrontIheardsobbing——aman’ssobs;nosoundisquitesodreadful。ZacharyPearsegotupoutofthebanknottenpacesoff。
　　Ihadnohearttogoafterhim，andsatdowninthehedge。Therewassomethingsubtlyakintoherinthefreshdarknessoftheyoungnight;thesoftbank，thescentofhoneysuckle，thetouchofthefernsandbrambles。Deathcomestoallofus，andwhenit’soverit’sover;butthisblindbusiness——ofthoseleftbehindAlittlelatertheshipwhistledtwice;herstarboardlightgleamedfaintly——andthatwasall……
　　VIII
　　"TORQUAY，30thOctober……DoyourememberthelettersIwroteyoufromMoorFarmnearlythreeyearsago？To—dayIrodeoverthere。IstoppedatBrixhamonthewayforlunch，andwalkeddowntothequay。Therehadbeenashower——butthesunwasoutagain，shiningonthesea，thebrown—redsails，andtherampartofslateroofs。
　　Atrawlerwaslyingthere，whichhadevidentlybeeninacollision。
　　Thespiky—bearded，thin—lippedfellowintornbluejerseyandsea—
　　bootswhowassuperintendingtherepairs，saidtomealittleproudly:
　　"Baneincollision，zurr;liketozeeoverher？"Thensuddenlyscrewinguphislittleblueeyes，headded:
　　"Why，Iremembersyu。Steeredyualongo’theyoungladyinthisyerverycraft。"
　　ItwasPrawle，ZacharyPearse’shenchman。
　　"Yes，"hewenton，"that’sthecutter。"
　　"AndCaptainPearse？"
　　Heleanthisbackagainstthequay，andspat。"Hewasapra—aperman;Ineverzanenonelike’en。"
　　"Didyoudoanygoodoutthere？"
　　Prawlegavemeasharpglance。
　　"Gude？No，t’wasarrmwedone，vromztarttofinish——hadtroubleallthetime。Whatamancudedu，theskipperdid。Whenyucaan’tduright，zomecallsit’Providence’！’Tisallmyeyean’BettyMartin！
　　WhatIzayes，’tisthesetimes，there’ssuchadaleo’folk，adaleofpuzzivantin’fellers;theworld’stosmall。"
　　WiththesewordsthereflashedacrossmeavisionofDrakecrushedintoourmodernlifebytheshrinkageoftheworld;Drakecaughtinthemeshesofredtape，electricwires，andalltheloftyappliancesofourcivilization。Doesatypesurviveitsage;liveonintotimesthathavenoroomforit？Thebloodisthere——andsometimesthere’sathrow—back……Allfancy！Eh？
　　"So，"Isaid，"youfailed？"
　　Prawlewriggled。
　　"Iwudden’goofortozaythat，zurr——’tisanuglyword。Da—am！"headded，staringathisboots，"’twasthrumetu。Wewerealongamongthehaythen，andImus’nadesgoofortobreakmeleg。Thecapt’nhewudden’laveme。’OneDevonman，’hesaystome，’don’laveanotherr。’Wewerrsixdayswhereweshuldha’beentu;whenwegotbacktotheshipacruiserhadgotherforgun—runnin’。"
　　"AndwhathasbecomeofCaptainPearse？"
　　Prawleanswered，"Zurr，Ibelave’ewenttoChina，’tisonsartin。"
　　"He’snotdead？"
　　Prawlelookedatmewithakindofuneasyanger。
　　"Yucudden’kell’en！’Tistrue，mun’lldiezomeday。Buttherr’snotaonethat’llshowbetterzportthanCapt’nZach’ryPearse。"
　　Ibelievethat;hewillbehardtokill。Thevisionofhimcomesup，withhisperfectbalance，defianteyes，andsweetishsmile;thewaythehairofhisbeardcrispedalittle，andgotblackeronthecheeks;thesortofdesperatefeelinghegave，thatonewouldnevergetthebetterofhim，thathewouldnevergetthebetterofhimself。
　　ItookleaveofPrawleandhalfacrown。BeforeIwasoffthequayI
　　heardhimsayingtoalady，"Baneincollision，marm！Liketozeeoverher？"
　　AfterlunchIrodeontoMoor。Theoldplacelookedmuchthesame;
　　buttheapple—treeswerestrippedoffruit，andtheirleavesbeginningtogoyellowandfall。OneofPasiance’scatspassedmeintheorchardhuntingabird，stillwitharibbonrounditsneck。JohnFordshowedmeallhislatestimprovements，butneverbywordorsignalludedtothepast。HeinquiredafterDan，backinNewZealandnow，withoutmuchinterest;hisstubblybeardandhairhavewhitened;hehasgrownverystout，andInoticedthathislegsarenotwellundercontrol;heoftenstopstoleanonhisstick。Hewasveryilllastwinter;andsometimes，theysay，willgostraightofftosleepinthemiddleofasentence。
　　ImanagedtogetafewminuteswiththeHopgoods。WetalkedofPasiancesittinginthekitchenunderarowofplates，withthatclingingsmellofwood—smoke，bacon，andagebringingupmemories，asnothingbutscentscan。Thedearoldlady’shair，drawnsonicelydownherforeheadoneachsidefromthecentreofhercap，hasafewthinsilverlines;andherfaceisathoughtmorewrinkled。Thetearsstillcomeintohereyeswhenshetalksofher"lamb。"
　　OfZacharyIheardnothing，butshetoldmeofoldPearse’sdeath。
　　"Therrtheyfound’en，zotospake，dead——inth’sun;butHa—apgoodcantellyu，"andHopgood，everrollinghispipe，mutteredsomething，andsmiledhiswoodensmile。
　　Hecametoseemeofffromthestraw—yard。"’Tislikedeathtothevarrm，zurr，"hesaid，puttingalltheplayofhisvastshouldersintothebucklingofmygirths。"MisterFord——well！Andnotoneofth’oldstocktotakeitwhen’e’sgarn……Ah！itwerrcruel;myoldwoman’sneverbeenhersel’since。Tell’eewhat’tis——don’tdut’thinktomuch。"
　　Iwentoutofmywaytopassthechurchyard。Therewereflowers，quitefresh，chrysanthemums，andasters;abovethemthewhitestone，alreadystained:
　　"PASIANCE
　　WIFEOFZACHARYPEARSE
　　’TheLordhatbgiven，andtheLordhatbtakenaway。"’
　　Theredcowsweretheretoo;theskyfullofgreatwhiteclouds，somebirdswhistlingalittlemournfully，andintheairthescentoffallenleaves……
　　May，1900。
　　AKNIGHT
　　TO
　　MYMOTHER
　　AKNIGHT
　　I
　　AtMonteCarlo，inthespringoftheyear189—，Iusedtonoticeanoldfellowinagreysuitandsunburntstrawhatwithablackribbon。
　　Everymorningateleveno’clock，hewouldcomedowntothePlace，followedbyabrindledGermanboarhound，walkonceortwiceroundit，andseathimselfonabenchfacingthecasino。Therehewouldremaininthesun，withhisstrawhattiltedforward，histhinlegsapart，hisbrownhandscrossedbetweenthem，andthedog’snoserestingonhisknee。Afteranhourormorehewouldgetup，and，stoopingalittlefromthewaist，walkslowlyroundthePlaceandreturnuphill。Justbeforethree，hewouldcomedownagaininthesameclothesandgointothecasino，leavingthedogoutside。
　　Oneafternoon，movedbycuriosity，Ifollowedhim。Hepassedthroughthehallwithoutlookingatthegambling—rooms，andwentintotheconcert。Itbecamemyhabitafterthattowatchforhim。WhenhesatinthePlaceIcouldseehimfromthewindowofmyroom。Thechiefpuzzletomewasthematterofhisnationality。
　　Hislean，shortfacehadaskinsoburntthatitlookedlikeleather;
　　hisjawwaslongandprominent，hischinpointed，andhehadhollowsinhischeeks。Therewerewrinklesacrosshisforehead;hiseyeswerebrown;andlittlewhitemoustacheswerebrushedupfromthecornersofhislips。Thebackofhisheadbulgedoutabovethelinesofhisleanneckandhigh，sharpshoulders;hisgreyhairwascroppedquiteclose。IntheMarseillesbuffet，onthejourneyout，IhadmetanEnglishman，almosthiscounterpartinfeatures——butsomehowverydifferent！Thisoldfellowhadnothingoftheother’salert，autocraticself—sufficiency。Hewasquietandundemonstrative，withoutlooking，asitwere，insulatedagainstshocksandforeignsubstances。HewascertainlynoFrenchman。Hiseyes，indeed，werebrown，buthazel—brown，andgentle——notthered—brownsensualeyeoftheFrenchman。AnAmerican？ButwaseveranAmericansopassive？A
　　German？Hismoustachewascertainlybrushedup，butinamodest，almostpatheticway，notintheleastTeutonic。Nothingseemedtofithim。Igavehimup，andnamedhim"theCosmopolitan。"
　　LeavingattheendofApril，Iforgothimaltogether。Inthesamemonth，however，ofthefollowingyearIwasagainatMonteCarlo，andgoingonedaytotheconcertfoundmyselfseatednextthissameoldfellow。TheorchestrawasplayingMeyerbeer’s"Prophete，"andmyneighbourwasasleep，snoringsoftly。Hewasdressedinthesamegreysuit，withthesamestrawhat（oroneexactlylikeit）onhisknees，andhishandscrossedaboveit。Sleephadnotdisfiguredhim—hislittlewhitemoustachewasstillbrushedup，hislipsclosed;averygoodandgentleexpressionhoveredonhisface。A
　　curvedmarkshowedonhisrighttemple，thescarofacutonthesideofhisneck，andhislefthandwascoveredbyanoldglove，thelittleforgerofwhichwasempty。Hewokeupwhenthemarchwasoverandbriskeduphismoustache。
　　ThenextthingontheprogrammewasalittlethingbyPoisefromLejoliGilles，playedbyMons。Corsanegoontheviolin。Happeningtoglanceatmyoldneighbour，Isawatearcaughtinthehollowofhischeek，andanotherjustleavingthecornerofhiseye;therewasafaintsmileonhislips。Thencameaninterval;andwhileorchestraandaudiencewereresting，Iaskedhimifhewerefondofmusic。Helookedupwithoutdistrust，bowed，andansweredinathin，gentlevoice:"Certainly。Iknownothingaboutit，playnoinstrument，couldneversinganote;butfondofit！Whowouldnotbe？"HisEnglishwascorrectenough，butwithanemphasisnotquiteAmericannorquiteforeign。IventuredtoremarkthathedidnotcareforMeyerbeer。Hesmiled。
　　"Ah！"hesaid，"Iwasasleep？Toobadofme。Heisalittlenoisy——
　　Iknowsolittleaboutmusic。ThereisBach，forinstance。Wouldyoubelieveit，hegivesmenopleasure？Agreatmisfortunetobenomusician！"Heshookhishead。
　　Imurmured，"Bachistooelevatingforyouperhaps。"
　　"Tome，"heanswered，"anymusicIlikeiselevating。Peoplesaysomemusichasabadeffectonthem。Ineverfoundanymusicthatgavemeabadthought——no——no——quitetheopposite;onlysometimes，asyousee，Igotosleep。Butwhatalovelyinstrumenttheviolin！"
　　Afaintflushcameonhisparchedcheeks。"Thehumansoulthathasleftthebody。Acuriousthing，distantbuglesatnighthavegivenmethesamefeeling。"Theorchestrawasnowcomingback，and，foldinghishands，myneighbourturnedhiseyestowardsthem。Whentheconcertwasoverwecameouttogether。Waitingattheentrancewashisdog。
　　"Youhaveabeautifuldog！"
　　"Ah！yes。Freda。miacara，dasumano！"Thedogsquattedonherhaunches，andliftedherpawinthevague，boredwayofbigdogswhenrequestedtoperformcivilities。Shewasalovelycreature——thepurestbrindle，withoutaspeckofwhite，andfreefromtheunbalancedlookofmostdogsofherbreed。
　　"Basta！basta！"Heturnedtomeapologetically。"WehaveagreedtospeakItalian;inthatwayIkeepupthelanguage;astonishingthenumberofthingsthatdogwillunderstand！"Iwasabouttotakemyleave，whenheaskedifIwouldwalkalittlewaywithhim——"Ifyouarefree，thatis。"WewentupthestreetwithFredaonthefarsideofhermaster。
　　"Doyounever’play’here？"Iaskedhim。
　　"Play？No。Itmustbeveryinteresting;mostexciting，butasamatteroffact，Ican’taffordit。Ifonehasverylittle，oneistoonervous。"
　　Hehadstoppedinfrontofasmallhairdresser’sshop。"Ilivehere，"hesaid，raisinghishatagain。"Aurevoir！——unlessIcanofferyouaglassoftea。It’sallready。Come！I’vebroughtyououtofyourway;givemethepleasure！"
　　Ihavenevermetamansofreefromallself—consciousness，andyetsodelicateanddiffidentthecombinationisarareone。Wewentupasteepstaircasetoaroomonthesecondfloor。Mycompanionthrewtheshuttersopen，settingallthefliesbuzzing。Thetopofaplane—treewasonalevelwiththewindow，andallitslittlebrownballsweredancing，quiteclose，inthewind。Ashehadpromised，anurnwashissingonatable;therewasalsoasmallbrownteapot，somesugar，slicesoflemon，andglasses。Abed，washstand，cupboard，tintrunk，twochairs，andasmallrugwereallthefurniture。Abovethebedaswordinaleathersheathwassuspendedfromtwonails。Thephotographofagirlstoodontheclosedstove。Myhostwenttothecupboardandproducedabottle，aglass，andasecondspoon。Whenthecorkwasdrawn，thescentofrumescapedintotheair。Hesniffedatitanddroppedateaspoonfulintobothglasses。