"AS HE HELD THE CANDLE HIGH, ITS WAVERING LIGHT FELL ON THE COUNTENANCE OF THE STRANGER"
"Gee whiz!" muttered Tommy Candy. "It's himself over again in black."
"It is my brother Pindar!" cried Mr. Homer, dropping the candle. "It is my only brother, whom I thought dead—a—defunct;—a—wafted to—my dear fellow, my dear brother, how are you? This is a joyful moment; this is—a—an auspicious occasion; this is—a—an oasis in the arid plains which—"
"Encircle us!" said Mr. Pindar. "Precisely! Homer, embrace me!"
He flung his arms abroad, and the batlike cloak fluttered out to its fullest width. Mr. Homer seemed to shrink together, and it was himself he embraced, with a frightened gesture.
"Oh, quite so!" he cried, hurriedly. "Very much so, indeed, my dear brother. The spirit, Pindar, the spirit, returns your proffered salute; but foreign customs, sir, have never obtained in Quahaug. I bid you heartily, heartily welcome, my dear brother. Come in, come in!"
Mr. Pindar flung up his hand with a lofty gesture. "My benison upon this house!" he cried. "The wanderer returns. The traveller—a—sets foot upon his native heath—I would say door-step. Flourish and exeunt. Set on!"