I turned the subject by handing to him the manuscript, which he looked over for some time with evident interest. When asked if he could make out the meaning of some of the Old English words he answered that he could not, and that there was probably no one living who could.
"You think I am conceited in making such a remark, but in that you are mistaken. It is simply that I am better acquainted with ignorance than you are. Most of these early English provincialisms, if I may use the term for want of a better, can only be guessed at. There are not sufficient local manuscripts of similar date for comparison to be of much service. If a word cannot be traced either to Anglo-Saxon, Moeso-Gothic, or Scandinavian, you may safely translate it as you please and defy criticism. But let us come in, it is getting chilly."
We entered the house together, passing on to his study. The home was typical of the man. From outside it might easily have been mistaken for a small farm-house. It had the appearance of age, though built by its present owner. It was constructed after the model of the oldest existing style of a Surrey cottage. The walls were supported by and interlaced with massive oak beams, and the roof was entirely composed of thin slabs of rough ironstone which had served a similar purpose for many centuries, having been collected from various dilapidated and condemned buildings. The greatest care had been taken in removing these slabs not to destroy the moss and lichen attached to them, and a few years after the house was finished, an antiquarian might easily have been deceived, so perfectly had every detail, external and internal, been studied.
This humble-looking abode cost probably as much as many of the surrounding mansions, and was unquestionably far more comfortable.
I thought that I was well acquainted with the interior. How far this idea was correct will shortly be seen.
We looked over the manuscript together for some time, and I was surprised to find that many words I had considered provincial were known to my friend; and it was not often that he had to own himself beaten. The matter, however, was most uninteresting, being a homily on the Roman faith.
Presently my companion leaned back in his chair, and seemed to be looking fixedly on some spot on the wall opposite him. I followed the direction of his eyes, but could see nothing likely to attract his attention. I spoke, but he did not answer. The light was rather dim, and it was not possible to see his face distinctly, as the shade from the lamp screened it, but I felt certain that something was wrong. I placed my hand upon his arm, but he took no notice, and this now thoroughly alarmed me.
My first inclination was to ring the bell; my second to move the shade from the lamp so as to be quite sure that I was not mistaken. Lifting the screen, I let the light fall brightly on Sydney's face, and turned to look more closely. For a moment his eyes still maintained their fixed and vacant expression, then turned slowly toward the light. He heaved a deep sigh, and then looked at me with a slightly dazed expression.
"I am afraid you are not well," I said.
"It is nothing," he replied. "For the moment I felt faint, but the sensation has passed."