The wayfarer looked around him with a faint smile, and then turned to his host; and the two gazed upon each other in silence for a minute. If there had been a struggle between them on the bank of the stream, it would have been a very doubtful one; for never were two men better matched. As they stood there, they looked like two well-chosen carriage-horses, of an equal height within a quarter of an inch, both broad in chest, strong in limb, thin in flank, both tanned with exercise and exposure; both of that hardy rich brown complexion, where the hair seems to curl from very vigour, and both in the prime of strength and activity, though in point of years lay the principal difference between them. The master of the house might, perhaps, be three or four years older than his guest; but as the latter was at least four or five and twenty, age gave the other no advantage.
The wayfarer was dressed in a dark velveteen shooting-jacket, leathern gaiters, and strong but well-made shoes; and under the coat was a waistcoat, with long rows of little pockets, for holding gun charges. He had what is called a foraging cap on his head, and a good deal of whisker and hair. His nose was straight, his eyes hazel, his teeth fine, and his chin rounded and somewhat prominent. The other was dressed in a fustian coat, with large pockets, thick hobnailed shoes, and leathern gaiters, with a straw hat upon his head, and corduroy breeches on his thighs. His features were good, and, like his guest, he had a straight nose and a rounded chin, with eyebrows exactly like the other's; but the eyes, instead of being hazel, were of a dark gray, and his beard and whiskers were closely shaved, and hair cut short. There were several points of difference between them, but more of similarity; and the similarity depended upon feature, form, and complexion, the difference more upon adventitious circumstances.
"You are my double," said the master of the house, after they had gazed at each other for some time, both feeling that there was a strong resemblance; "and as such you have as good a right to wear my clothes as myself. They are not as good as yours; but they are dry, which makes them better for the time."
He opened the old armory, which was full of guns and fishing rods, and from one of two drawers at the bottom took out a very little used suit of country-made clothes.
"There," he said, "put those on; and we will afterwards go and see if we can find your bundle at the wear. Here, come into the back room, and I will give you a clean shirt and stockings. I never let cotton and wool lie together; for they might quarrel, being near akin."
The other followed, and after having fulfilled his promise as to the shirt and the stockings, the master of the house left him, and returned to blow the fire into a blaze.
CHAPTER III.
Man wonders why it happens so often that in our first manhood disappointments, bitter as undeserved, fall upon us--why we are crossed in honourable love--thwarted in noble ambition--frustrated in generous endeavour--distracted in a just course--denied our reasonable expectations. Some reply, It is a part of the original curse, and that we must go on struggling and grumbling. Others--better and wiser men, and far more religious--find out that it is to wean us from earthly affections which, when the world is in its spring loveliness, are apt to take too great a hold upon us. Both may be right; yet there may be something of training in it too. We have things to accomplish in our manhood, a course to be run, a contest to fight out; and at that time of youth we are colts which must be bitted and bridled, put at the longe, have the rollers between our jaws; and many a sore mouth and galled withers must be endured before we are fit for the hard rider, Fate, to get upon our back, and gallop us to the end of our career. Does not that filly sporting in the field think it very hard that she may not go on cantering up and down, with her head held high, and her nostrils snorting fire, or that she may not go on cropping buttercups and sweet grass--all very reasonable desires for a filly--but must come and be driven round and round a ring, with a long whip at her hocks, and a drunken horse-breaker in the middle, holding her from her joyous freedom by a long cord? Truly, she may well think it a hard case; but she was not made for her own service--nor was man.
There is something of the same feeling in the breast of that young wayfarer as he sits there by the fire, after having changed his clothes. That knitted brow and curling lip show that he thinks he has been hardly used by fortune; and yet there is a thoughtful look about his eyes which may indicate a search for, and a discovery of, the ends and objects of disappointment. The power of thought is a wonderful thing. See how it steals over him, smoothing the wrinkle out of the brow, relaxing the bitter turn of the lip. He is forming plans--or building castles--reawakening hope--recovering faith and trust. Something is working in his mind for peace!
"You have made me very comfortable," he said, abruptly, while the other lifted a small tin kettle from the fire, where it had been hissing and spluttering for a minute or two; "and I am now ready to go out and seek my bundle at the wear. My wet things can dry here till I come back."