“How did I get lame?” he murmured, pressing the bandage on his forehead. “Why, to be sure, it was a parachute, Richard—a really capital thing I invented. But the wires got involved—the merest accident—and I came to the ground.”
He was interrupted by two young ladies, daughters of the inn, who came themselves—out of curiosity, I think—to serve us breakfast. They were over-dressed, all but for their trodden slippers, with large bows of hair on their heads, and they giggled a good deal and answered questions pertly.
“Well, my dears,” said Uncle Jenico, “how about the earthquake?”
They stared at him, and then at one another, and burst out laughing.
“O, there now!” said one; “earthquake yourself, old gentleman! Go along with you!” And they ran out, and we heard them tittering all down the stairs.
Uncle Jenico got clearer after his meal, though he was still disinclined to move. I sat with him all the morning, while he showed and explained to me more of the contents of his box; and about midday a visitor, the Reverend Mr. Sant, was announced. I stood up expectant, and saw a thin, dark young man, in clerical dress, enter the room at a stride. He had the colourless face, large-boned nose, and burning eyes of a zealot, and not an ounce of superfluous flesh anywhere about him. Much athletic temperance had trimmed him down to frame and muscle, but had not parched the sources of a very sweet smile, which was the only emotional weakness he retained. He came up to the bed, took my uncle’s hand, and introduced himself in a word.
“Permit me,” he said; “I heard of your accident. I know a trifle of surgery, and our apothecary visits us but twice in the month. May I look?”
He examined the hurt, and, saying he would send a salve for it, settled down to talk.
Now, I could not follow the persuasive process; but all I know is that within a quarter of an hour he had learned all my uncle’s and my history, and the reason for our coming to Dunberry, and that, having once mastered the details, he very ingeniously set himself to appropriating them to the schemes of Providence.
“It is clear,” he said, “that you, free-lances of Destiny, were inspired to select this, out of all the world, for your operations. We looked for visitors to report for us upon the attractions of the place; you for a quiet and healthful spot in which to develop your schemes.”