the lateness of your appearance at the bar. Your companion has much more
the air of a sailor than of a lawyer."--This was true enough, there being
no mistaking Marble's character, though I had put on a body-coat to come
ashore in;--"I presume _he_ is not in the practice."

"That remains to be seen, sir." answered Marble. "Having told you my
friend's name, Mr. Van Tassel, I will now tell you my own. I am called
Moses Marble Wetmore Van Duser Oloff, sir, or some such bloody thing; and
you're welcome to take your pick out of the whole list. I'll answer to
either of them aliases."

"This is so extraordinary and unusual, gentlemen, I scarce know what to
make of it. Has this visit any connection with Mrs. Wetmore, or her farm,
or the mortgage I have been foreclosing on the last?"

"It has, sir; and I am that Mrs. Wetmore's son--yes sir, the only child of
that dear, good, old soul."

"The son of Mrs. Wetmore!" exclaimed Van Tassel, both surprised and
uneasy. "I knew there _was_ a son; but I have been always told it was
impossible to find him. I see no resemblance, sir, in you to either George
Wetmore, or Kitty Van Duser."

Now this was not altogether true. As for George Wetmore, they who had
known him in middle age, afterwards declared that Moses did resemble him
greatly; while I, myself, could trace in the mouth and milder expression
of the mate's features, a strong likeness to the subdued character of his
aged mother's face. This resemblance would not have been observed, in all
probability, without a knowledge of the affinity that existed between the
parties; but, with that knowledge, it was not easy to overlook.