'One held that he had been beguiled by gypsies, another that he had been stolen to be exhibited as a rare model of virtue in some distant clime, while others believed that the fairies, envious of our happiness in possessing such a friend, had taken him from our midst; but all agreed that we should have guarded our treasure with greater care.
'One never-to-be-forgotten evening the doctor, the
solicitor, the vicar, the corn-chandler, and myself (some of us already stricken in years) were seated, as was now our evening custom, upon the rustic bridge that carries the road across the river Peg. The fragrant smoke of our long pipes rising to the evening sky, our conversation, as was now so frequently the case, had drifted from politics, sport, fashions and the latest police intelligence to lovingly-recalled memories of our long-lost friend, and so sad did we become that lumps as large as egg plums rose to our throats, and our eyes brimmed over with tears.
'Drying our eyes we now smoked on in silent contemplation of the past; the night gradually drew down, and the first star appeared in the cloudless sky when there came to us the sound of a distant footstep, coming along the road towards the town, and presently a strange figure hove in sight,—an old, old man, with
long tangled grey hair and shaggy beard, clothed in the most pitiable rags, torn, and held together with straw and odd pieces of string. He passed slowly across the bridge, leaning heavily on his staff, and limped with difficulty towards the town, into which with one accord we followed him.
'Down the cobbled high street he walked until he came to the shop of the vanished grocer into which he turned without any hesitation. Wondering what business could take him there, we all hastened to the door of the shop, and there, with the utmost astonishment, beheld the stranger remove his threadbare coat, and replace it with the grocer's moth-eaten apron that had hung for so long from a peg on the door; then he commenced dusting the shop and putting it
straight. As I gazed, my astonishment gave place to the most incredulous amazement when I detected in the old man a fancied likeness to the departed grocer. At last, after closer scrutiny, I was convinced that it was indeed no other than my friend actually returned after all these years, and as he at the same time more easily recognised me, we fell into each other's arms, and who shall describe the extravagance of our joy?
'In a little while, when we had calmed down, we all retired to the little parlour behind the shop, and our good friend brewed us a cup of tea as of old, and after a little gentle persuasion related to us the following strange story of his disappearance:—