“The old man hesitated, perplexed at such an invitation. But she called again:
“‘I beg you of your goodness.’
“So he came, and she asked him to be seated before her, and then she fixed her burning eyes on him.
“‘Tell me, sir, have you in all of your travels ever met a man named Samuel Bings—a tall man with steel blue eyes, a sailor, every inch of him?’
“The old man stared at her a moment, and then started to his feet.
“‘Are you,’ he cried, ‘his wife, Dorothy? Had he a horse named Pacolet?’
“‘I knew it! I knew it,’ cried Mistress Bings. ‘As soon as ever I saw you coming up the street, I knew that at last I should hear of him. Oh, tell me, sir, is he living still?’
“The old man sank into his seat again and hung his huge head over his knees.
“‘No, madam, he is dead these ten years since.’
“‘Ah, dead,’ breathed Mistress Bings. ‘He is at rest, my Samuel. He is safe in his last bed. He suffers no longer. May God rest his soul!’