Mr. Traveller thought this, as he silently confronted the sooty object in
the blanket and skewer (in sober truth it wore nothing else), with the
matted hair and the staring eyes. Further, Mr. Traveller thought, as the
eye surveyed him with a very obvious curiosity in ascertaining the effect
they produced, "Vanity, vanity, vanity! Verily, all is vanity!"

"What is your name, sir, and where do you come from?" asked Mr. Mopes the
Hermit--with an air of authority, but in the ordinary human speech of one
who has been to school.

Mr. Traveller answered the inquiries.

"Did you come here, sir, to see _me_?"

"I did. I heard of you, and I came to see you.--I know you like to be
seen." Mr. Traveller coolly threw the last words in, as a matter of
course, to forestall an affectation of resentment or objection that he
saw rising beneath the grease and grime of the face. They had their
effect.

"So," said the Hermit, after a momentary silence, unclasping the bars by
which he had previously held, and seating himself behind them on the
ledge of the window, with his bare legs and feet crouched up, "you know I
like to be seen?"

Mr. Traveller looked about him for something to sit on, and, observing a
billet of wood in a corner, brought it near the window. Deliberately
seating himself upon it, he answered, "Just so."

Each looked at the other, and each appeared to take some pains to get the