“Ha!” said the trustee. “I have it! Caliban, with the addition of a soul! Precisely! and may I be asked to resign if this is not James’s pixy!”
These remarks were not audible to the strange man, who stood looking intently at the gentleman, with bright blue eyes that were little in keeping with the rest of his uncouth being.
He opened his mouth once or twice, with such suggestions of Jonah that the trustee involuntarily recoiled a step or two; he tried to speak, but found difficulty in doing so; at length,—
“You’re a gentleman!” said Caliban.
“Thank you!” said the trustee. “I think it highly probable that you are another. What can I do for you this morning?”
Joe pulled off his hat with a gesture indescribably feudal.
“I know a gentleman when I see him,” he said, humbly. “Brazybones ain’t never been gentlemen, but they knows ’em, ’count o’ bein’ along o’ Herons so long, you see. Yes, sir; Joseph Brazybone is my name: Sculpin Joe, some calls me, on account of my style o’ featur, which is what was give me at birth; and I’ve come to see my young Lady Heron, as is stopping here a spell. You—bein’ a gentleman, you might know young Lady Heron, mebbe, sir?”
“Isla Heron?” said the trustee. “Oh, yes; I know Isla very well, and her little brother, too.”
Joe Brazybone turned away suddenly, and his round shoulders heaved once or twice. He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke it was slow and brokenly.
“You—you’ll excuse me, gentleman,” he said. “It came kind o’ suddin, that’s all is the matter with me. Old Joe’s had a hard winter of it, ye see, never hearin’ a word of his young lady, let alone seein’ her, as every day he done sence Giles was laid away, till this winter. He’s had a hard time of it, Joe has, and all the way down he’s been thinkin’, suppose somethin’ had happened to my young lady. She’s well, you said, gentleman?” He turned suddenly, and his glance was like a sword. “No, you didn’t say so, but yet you spoke as if—she’s well, Isly is?”