He threw himself down and lay back on the greensward, in pleasant contemplation, when he heard a gentle cough—as of one who wished to attract attention. Looking up he observed close at hand, a tall man, dressed in black, with long hair, which fell over his shirt collar and shoulders.
He wore a broad collar and black satin necktie, and his hair was parted in the middle. His appearance was certainly peculiar, and excited our hero’s curiosity.
“My young friend,” he said, “you have chosen a pleasant resting-place beneath this umbrageous monarch of the grove.” “Yes, sir,” answered Philip, wondering whether the stranger was a poet.
“May I also recline beneath it?” asked the newcomer.
“Certainly, sir. It is large enough to shelter us both.”
“Quite true; but I did not wish to intrude upon your meditations.”
“My meditations are not of much account,” answered Philip, laughing.
“I see you are modest. Am I right in supposing that yonder case contains a violin?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you are a musician?”