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almanack； and every seam an entry upon it where public as well as private
sorrow left its trace。 That pucker on the forehead stood for the Mutiny；
perhaps； that line of care for the Crimean winter； it may be； and that last
little sheaf of wrinkles； as my fancy hoped； for the death of Gordon。 And
so； as I dreamed in my foolish way； the old gentleman with the shining
stock was gone； and it was seventy years of a great nation's life that took
shape before me on the headland in the morning。
But he soon brought me back to earth again。 As he recovered his
breath he took a letter out of his pocket； and； putting on a pair of horn…
rimmed eye… glasses； he read it through very carefully。 Without any
design of playing the spy I could not help observing that it was in a
woman's hand。 When he had finished it he read it again； and then sat
with the corners of his mouth drawn down and his eyes staring vacantly
out over the bay； the most forlorn…looking old gentleman that ever I have
seen。 All that is kindly within me was set stirring by that wistful face；
but I knew that he was in no humour for talk； and so； at last； with my
breakfast and my patients calling me； I left him on the bench and started
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for home。
I never gave him another thought until the next morning； when； at the
same hour； he turned up upon the headland； and shared the bench which I
had been accustomed to look upon as my own。 He bowed again before
sitting down； but was no more inclined than formerly to enter into
conversation。 There had been a change in him during the last twenty…
four hours； and all for the worse。 The face seemed more heavy and more
wrinkled； while that ominous venous tinge was more pronounced as he
panted up the hill。 The clean lines of his cheek and chin were marred by
a day's growth of grey stubble； and his large； shapely head had lost
something of the brave carriage which had struck me when first I glanced
at him。 He had a letter there； the same； or another； but still in a woman's
hand； and over this he was moping and mumbling in his senile fashion；
with his brow puckered； and the corners of his mouth drawn down like
those of a fretting child。 So I left him； with a vague wonder as to who he
might be； and why a single spring day should have wrought such a change
upon him。
So interested was I that next morning I was on the look out for him。
Sure enough； at the same hour； I saw him coming up the hill； but very
slowly； with a bent back and a heavy head。 It was shocking to me to see
the change in him as he approached。
〃I am afraid that our air does not agree with you； sir；〃 I ventured to
remark。
But it was as though he had no heart for talk。 He tried； as I thought；
to make some fitting reply； but it slurred off into a mumble and silence。
How bent and weak and old he seemedten years older at the least than
when first I had seen him！ It went to my heart to see this fine old fellow
wasting away before my eyes。 There was the eternal letter which he
unfolded with his shaking fingers。 Who was this woman whose words
moved him so？ Some daughter； perhaps； or granddaughter； who should
have been the light of his home instead of I smiled to find how bitter
I was growing； and how swiftly I was weaving a romance round an
unshaven old man and his correspondence。 Yet all day he lingered in my
mind； and I had fitful glimpses of those two trembling； blue…veined；
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knuckly hands with the paper rustling between them。
I had hardly hoped to see him again。 Another day's decline must； I
thought； hold him to his room； if not to his bed。 Great； then； was my
surprise when； as I approached my bench； I saw that he was already there。
But as I came up to him I could scarce be sure that it was indeed the same
man。 There were the curly…brimmed hat； and the shining stock； and the
horn glasses； but where were the stoop and the grey…stubbled； pitiable face？
He was clean… shaven and firm lipped； with a bright eye and a head that
poised itself upon his great shoulders like an eagle on a rock。 His back
was as straight and square as a grenadier's； and he switched at the pebbles
with his stick in his exuberant vitality。 In the button… hole of his well…
brushed black coat there glinted a golden blossom； and the corner of a
dainty red silk handkerchief lapped over from his breast pocket。 He
might have been the eldest son of the weary creature who had sat there the
morning before。
〃Good morning； Sir； good morning！〃 he cried with a merry waggle of
his cane。
〃Good morning！〃 I answered how beautiful the bay is looking。〃
〃Yes； Sir； but you should have seen it just before the sun rose。〃
〃What； have you been here since then？〃
〃I was here when there was scarce light to see the path。〃
〃You are a very early riser。〃
〃On occasion； sir； on occasion！〃 He cocked his eye at me as if to
gauge whether I were worthy of his confidence。 〃The fact is； sir； that my
wife is coming back to me to day。〃
I suppose that my face showed that I did not quite see the force of the
explanation。 My eyes； too； may have given him assurance of sympathy；
for he moved quite close to me and began speaking in a low； confidential
voice； as if the matter were of such weight that even the sea…gulls must be
kept out of our councils。
〃Are you a married man； Sir？〃
〃No； I am not。〃
〃Ah； then you cannot quite understand it。 My wife and I have been
married for nearly fifty years； and we have never been parted； never at all；
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until now。〃
〃Was it for long？〃 I asked。
〃Yes； sir。 This is the fourth day。 She had to go to Scotland。 A
matter of duty； you understand； and the doctors would not let me go。 Not
that I would have allowed them to stop me； but she was on their side。
Now； thank God！ it is over； and she may be here at any moment。〃
〃Here！〃
〃Yes； here。 This headland and bench were old friends of ours thirty
years ago。 The people with whom we stay are not； to tell the truth； very
congenial； and we have； little privacy among them。 That is why we
prefer to meet here。 I could not be sure which train would bring her； but
if she had come by the very earliest she would have found me waiting。〃
〃In that case〃 said I； rising。
〃No； sir； no；〃 he entreated； 〃I beg that you will stay。 It does not
weary you； this domestic talk of mine？〃
〃On the contrary。〃
〃I have been so driven inwards during these few last days！ Ah； what a
nightmare it has been！ Perhaps it may seem strange to you that an old
fellow like me should feel like this。〃
〃It is charming。〃
〃No credit to me； sir！ There's not a man on this planet but would feel
the same if he had the good fortune to be married to such a woman。
Perhaps； because you see me like this； and hear me speak of our long life
together； you conceive that she is old； too。〃
He laughed heartily； and his eyes twinkled at the humour of the idea。
〃She's one of those women； you know； who have youth in their hearts；
and so it can never be very far from their faces。 To me she's just as she
was when she first took my hand in hers in '45。 A wee little bit stouter；
perhaps； but then； if she had a fault as a girl； it was that she was a shade
too slender。 She was above me in station； you knowI a clerk； and she
the daughter of my employer。 Oh！ it was quite a romance； I give you my
word； and I won her； and； somehow； I have never got over the freshness
and the wonder of it。 To think that that sweet； lovel