Yates went to the house door and called vigorously:
"Yuba! Yuba! you old fool, get supper ready at once."
When an answering cry assured him that his summons had been heard and would receive attention, he brought from the hall a japan tray, upon which were placed several bottles and glasses.
"You may as well wet your throat, Tom, while you're waiting for supper; it's deuced warm to-night."
The man assented with a guttural laugh, the two seated themselves near the table on which Yates had placed the waiter, and filled their glasses, clashing them against each other.
"Will you have a little wine, Mrs. Yates?" asked the stranger. "I know how you like it mixed."
But she declined the offer, leaned her head still lower upon the railing, and looked away across the valley where the moonlight played, far off in the very center of the flat, lying so unbroken and silvery that it had the effect of a small lake hidden among the great trees and luxuriant vines.
As the two men sat opposite each other, tilted back in their great wicker-chairs, it was curious to notice the resemblance between them. They might have been taken for twin brothers, yet it was one of those accidental likenesses which one occasionally sees in all countries. There was no tie of blood between them, or any reason for this look of consanguinity. The chances of their reckless lives had thrown them together, a similarity of tastes and a series of mutual benefits preserved the intimacy which had sprung up among the rank weeds of human life.
Dickinson had not the claims to manly beauty which Yates had once possessed, yet his features bore the same type of countenance on a larger, coarser scale; but in form or movement they were so much alike, that when their backs were turned, it would have puzzled even a person who knew them well to have told one from the other.
While they conversed, Sybil did not appear to listen, yet not a word escaped her vigilant ear, and sometimes she turned her face partially, and flashed toward them that strange look which so entirely changed the expression of her countenance.