“But I do not understand yet why you should be such an enemy to him. How has he injured you?”
“No, I suppose you don’t; but wait awhile and I shall come to that part of it.”
He arose as he spoke, and going to his toilet-stand, rubbed something over his face and then washed it thoroughly; he then brushed his rough locks in the style of the present day, then removed a heavy pair of eyebrows and his mustache, and, going to his wardrobe, exchanged his rough smuggler’s jacket for a finer and more stylish covering.
Not until he had made a complete transformation did he again turn to his visitor, who had been watching him curiously during these strange proceedings.
“Zounds!” exclaimed Fredrich Weimher, more than ever astonished, and gazing in perplexity at the wonderful change which he had effected. “Who are you, that you adopt so readily and so cleverly such different characters?”
It was no wonder that he exclaimed, for the transformation was more complete than the previous disguise had been.
Edgerton had washed off the swarthy hue that had hitherto been upon his face, revealing a clear though rather dark complexion. His eyes, which before with their heavy eyebrows had looked fierce and evil, now had a mild and genial expression, and his mouth was very handsome, the lips being thin and finely curved, which, with the change in his apparel, made him look like a highly educated, intelligent, and polished gentleman.
“Listen, my friend,” he said, seating himself again, still in his new character; “you shall know my whole story before we part, and then judge for yourself whether I am an interested party in the treacherous plot this gray-headed sinner is at work upon.”
He ground his white, even teeth as he uttered these last words.
“Do you know, sir, that there is a familiar look about you since this last change. I think I must have met you before somewhere,” said Fredrich Weimher, regarding his companion earnestly.