Ercildoune had spoken with such impassioned feeling, with such fire in his eyes, such terrible earnestness in his voice, that Robert could not, if he would, interrupt him; and, in the silence, found no words for the instant at his command. Ere he summoned them they saw some one approaching.
"A fine looking fellow! fighting has been no child's play for him," said Robert, looking, as he spoke, at the empty sleeve.
Mr. Ercildoune advanced to meet the stranger, and Surrey beheld the same face upon whose pictured semblance he had once gazed with such intense feelings, first of jealousy, and then of relief and admiration; the same splendor of life, and beauty, and vitality. Surrey knew him at once, knew that it was Francesca's father, and went up to him with extended hand. Mr. Ercildoune took the proffered hand, and shook it warmly. "I am happy to meet you, Mr. Surrey."
"You know me?" said he with surprise. "I thought to present myself."
"I have seen your picture."
"And I yours. They must have held the mirror up to nature, for the originals to be so easily known. But may I ask where you saw mine? yours was in Miss Ercildoune's possession."
"As was yours," was answered after a moment's hesitation,—Surrey thought, with visible reluctance. His heart flew into his throat. "She has my picture,—she has spoken of me," he said to himself. "I wonder what her father will think,—what he will do. Come, I will to the point immediately."
"Mr. Ercildoune," said he, aloud, "you know something of me? of my position and prospects?"
"A great deal."
"I trust, nothing disparaging or ignoble."