He had a mild but noble bearing, and his
aspect denoted habitual meditation. His eyes were remarkably piercing
and expressive; in short, he was one of those men at whom we are led
involuntarily to cast a glance of respect, without very well knowing
why; perhaps it might be owing to the gravity of his demeanour,
perhaps to the peculiar decorum of his deportment, or perhaps to the
scrupulous propriety of his dress. He raised his eyes from the book he
held in his hand, and gazed tranquilly at the three figures who had so
abruptly interrupted his reveries.
"May I inquire," said he, "to what we owe this intrusion on our
privacy, gentlemen?"
"We have to apologise for our rudeness," said Fritz; "but are you not
the Rev. Mr. Wolston?"
"My name is Charles Wolston, and I am a minister of the gospel, and
missionary of the church."
"Then, sir," continued Fritz, "I am the bearer of a message from your
father."
"From my father!" exclaimed the missionary, starting up; "you come
then from the Pacific Ocean?"
[Illustration]
Here the second gentleman raised his head, and looked as if he had
just awakened from a dream. He gazed at the speakers with a puzzled
air.
"Do you know me, captain?" said Willis.
Littlestone, for it was he, continued to gaze in mute astonishment, as
if the events of the past had been defiling through his memory; and he
probably thought that the figures before him were mere phantom
creations of his brain.
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