"I dare say," said the other, ironically. "However, we won't dispute that point. Well, this young Codman,—for singularly enough you hit upon the right name, not knowing anything of the circumstances of course,—this young Codman married Isabel."
"Isabel!" repeated the old man. "Her name was——"
Here he paused in sudden confusion, feeling that he was betraying himself by his incautious correction.
"Yes, Peter," said the other with a shrewd smile, "you are right. Her name was not Isabel, but Eleanor. I acknowledge that I was wrong; but it seems to me that, for one who is entirely a stranger to the events I have been describing, you show a wonderful shrewdness in detecting my mistakes."
Peter maintained a confused silence, and wriggled about uneasily, as if the stranger's fixed and watchful gaze disturbed him.
"Humph! well they say that some people have the gift of second sight, and others can see through millstones, and various other wonderful things."
"What has all this to do with me?" asked Peter, crossly, for he felt it necessary to make some demonstration. "It's getting late, and I want to go to bed. Go away, and—and come again to-morrow, if you want to."
"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, Peter, which means that I am sure of you now, and perhaps you wouldn't let me in if I should call to-morrow. If you are sleepy I have no objection to your going to bed. I can talk to you as well as if you were sitting up. I will stay here and keep the fire going."
Peter looked at the small pile of wood with a groan, and muttered something about "its being awful extravagant to keep such a fire."