At last, there appeared in the doorway a venerable figure,
clad in a rich, faded dressing-gown, and standing on the threshold looked
fixedly at Middleton, at the same time holding up a light in his left
hand. In his right was some object that Middleton did not distinctly
see. But he knew the figure, and recognized the face. It was the old
man, his long since companion on the journey hitherward.
"So," said the old man, smiling gravely, "you have thought fit, at last,
to accept the hospitality which I offered you so long ago. It might have
been better for both of us--for all parties--if you had accepted it
then!"
"You here!" exclaimed Middleton. "And what can be your connection with
all the error and trouble, and involuntary wrong, through which I have
wandered since our last meeting? And is it possible that you even then
held the clue which I was seeking?"
"No,--no," replied Rothermel. "I was not conscious, at least, of so
doing. And yet had we two sat down there by the wayside, or on that
English stile, which attracted your attention so much; had we sat down
there and thrown forth each his own dream, each his own knowledge, it
would have saved much that we must now forever regret.
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