"Halloo, old boy, get up here!"
He did get up, a languid, pale man, with sharp features, and a frame so
attenuated that I involuntarily placed a soft bag for him to lean
against, and removed a cane and umbrella that seemed likely to hurt his
bones.
It was about half an hour before I saw that the new man was not at all
an invalid, but of the natural gaunt frame and pallid complexion of my
countrymen. My eyes had become so full of the fresh, rosy life of the
Englishman's face, that the new man's face was bleached and unhealthy to
me. I happened to glance back from him to the Dominie, and saw, that,
allowing for green spectacles, they were both of a color. We were so
arranged on the top of the coach, that with reasonable twisting of necks
we were able to maintain an animated conversation, and soon found our
account in the new element.
"Well, Remington!"
"Well, Lewis!"
"Where from now?"
"From Niagara, and home by the White Hills."
"And what of the last, or of both?"
"Miss Rugg has fallen into the one, and Miss Somebody has been to the
top of the other. Had to be brought down, though. Women shouldn't climb
mountains."
"There has been some talk of a road, or practicable path at least, to
the top of Mount Washington."
"Never'll be done. Impossible on the face of the thing."
"Nothing is impossible to Yankees, Remington."
"This is. And now, Lewis, whence come you, and whither go?"
"From Weston, and to New York."
Here was a _denouement!_ We looked at him with new interest, and saw at
once, such was the force of imagination, the very eyes and eyebrows of
Gus Lewis. However, it proved afterwards to be only imagination. When we
told him we came from Weston only two days and a half before, the
conversation assumed the native style of New England, and for the next
quarter of an hour we talked of each other and each other's affairs.'
Mr. Lewis was delighted to see us, had stayed only an hour in Weston,
and there heard of our trip from Auguste,--profanely called Gus,--took
the box of maple-sugar in charge at once, laughed at the boy-like
direction without even a surname, and ended with recommending us to go
at once to Miss Post's, on Broadway, where himself and his wife were at
present boarding. All the particulars of life, character, and relative
interests were discussed between ourselves and Mr. Lewis with the
relish and zest of compatriots. I had forgotten how close a tie was that
of Yankee birth, and how like an unknown tongue our talk was to the
Englishman, till we stopped and turned to him to say something, and
found him fast asleep. Then I was glad that he hadn't heard my satirical
description of "donation-parties" at Weston, nor the account I gave of
our two boys, our salary of five hundred dollars, and the various
comical shifts we had to make to live comfortably on that sum and
support aged parents and graceless relations. Little touches told Mr.
Lewis the whole story. I knew very well that Mr. Remington would be
entirely abroad about such a social existence as ours in Weston, travel
he ever so long or widely.
Mr. Lewis had black eyes and hair, and bent like an habitual student. He
had a scar on his right eyebrow, which he had got by a fall, and by
which he had saved the life of Mr. Remington, who was a connection of
his wife's. This he told us, afterwards, and I amused myself with
drawing parallels between his face and his mind. One side was gentle,
sweet-humored, sentimental, with a touch of melancholy. The other,
disfigured with the scar, seemed to have been turned harsh, suspicious,
proud, reserved, and unrelenting. These were many qualities, all to
depend on a scar, to be sure; but they generally herd together, and he
might be one man or another, as life presented its dark or sunny side to
him. To me, he was very interesting, from the first; and my husband was
delighted with him. The Dominie starved in Weston for congenial
intellectual nutriment. Nobody but myself could tell what a drain it was
on him always to impart, always to simplify, to descend, to walk on the
ground with wings folded flat to his back, and the angel in him
habitually kept out of view. The most he could do was to insinuate now
and then a thought above the farming interest, and in a direction aside
from Bombay. More than that exposed him to suspicion, and hindered his
usefulness in Coös County.
Somehow, we got talking of Mr. Remington, which we might well do, seeing
him there before us, sleeping like a baby.
"That he could always do, like Napoleon," said Mr. Lewis, "and so can
accomplish much without fatigue."
"Is he married?" said I.
"Yes. His wife is in delicate health."