Quietly the man drew near. He did not see Piers under his lowered hat-brim till he was within a few feet of him. Then, becoming suddenly aware of him, he raised his eyes. A moment later, his hand went up in a brief, friendly salute.
Piers' hand made instant response. "Splendid morning!" he began to say—and stopped with the words half-uttered. The blood surged up to his forehead in a great wave. "Good Heavens!" he said instead.
The other man paused. He did not look at Piers very narrowly, but merely glanced towards him and then turned his eyes towards the wonderful, far-stretching blue below them.
"Yes, splendid," he said quietly. "Worth remembering—a scene like this."
His tone was absolutely impersonal. He stood beside Piers for a moment or two, gazing forth into the infinite distance; then with a slight gesture of leave-taking he turned as if to continue his progress.
In that instant, however, Piers recovered himself sufficiently to speak. His face was still deeply flushed, but his voice was steady enough as he turned fully and addressed the new-comer.
"Don't you know me? We have met before."
The other man stopped at once. He held out his hand. "Yes, of course I know you—knew you the moment I set eyes on you. But I wasn't sure that you would care to be recognized by me."
"What on earth do you take me for?" said Piers bluntly.
He gripped the hand hard, looking straight into the calm eyes with a curious sense of being sustained thereby. "I believe," he said, with an odd impulse of impetuosity, "that you are the one man in the world that I couldn't be other than pleased to see."