“That tells as much against the Hippolyta man,” said Rosamond.
“Poor Archie would not be difficult to identify,” said Julius; “for his hair was like mine, though his eyes were blue, and not short-sighted.”
“That is all right, then,” cried Anne; “for we had a dispute whether he were young or old, and I remember mamma saying he had a look about him as if his hair might have turned white in a single night.”
“Julius! Now won’t you believe?” cried Rosamond.
“Had he a Scotch accent?” said Julius.
“No; I recollect papa’s telling him he never should have guessed him to be a Scot by his tongue; and he said he must confess that he had never seen Scotland.”
“Now, Julius!” pleaded Rosamond, with clasped hands, as if Jenny’s fate hung on his opinion.
“How long ago was this?” asked he.
“Four years,” said Anne, with a little consideration. “He came both in going and returning, and Alick was wild to join him if he ever passed our way again. My father liked him so much that he was almost ready to consent; but he never came again. Ivory hunters go more from Natal now.”
“You will trace him! There’s a dear Anne!” exclaimed Rosamond.