Up and down they strolled and smoked until, tired of being jolted, or, as the earl put it, “walked over,” they turned up the west side of Fifteenth Street, where the sidewalk was brilliantly lighted, yet almost vacant of passengers.
Here they walked and talked in the cool of the evening, unconscious of a dark figure approaching them from the north end of the street, whose advent was to have the most important effect on the destinies of several of our friends. They were going to meet the form that was approaching them.
Both looked up carelessly and saw a tall, soldiery looking man, who, coming up, held out his hand with an exclamation of surprise and pleasure:
“Enderby!”
The earl stared for a second and then seized the offered hand, crying with delight:
“Anglesea!”
“When did you arrive?”
This question was put, in the same words, at the same time by both.
“But three days since,” answered Lord Enderby.
“Only this afternoon,” replied Gen. Anglesea. “I have come to America to see your sister.”