stately in his gait for a man in the prime of life, this white-headed
chap seemed the most wonderfully alert of old men. I don't suppose
Bunter was any quicker on his pins than before. It was the colour of the
hair that made all the difference in one's judgment.

The same with his eyes. Those eyes, that looked at you so steely, so
fierce, and so fascinating out of a bush of a buccaneer's black hair,
now had an innocent almost boyish expression in their good-humoured
brightness under those white eyebrows.

I led him without any delay into Mrs. Bunter's private sitting-room.
After she had dropped a tear over the late cannibal, given a hug to her
Winston, and told him that he must grow his moustache again, the dear
lady tucked her feet upon the sofa, and I got out of Bunter's way.

He started at once to pace the room, waving his long arms. He worked
himself into a regular frenzy, and tore Johns limb from limb many times
over that evening.

"Fell down? Of course I fell down, by slipping backwards on that fool's
patent brass plates. 'Pon my word, I had been walking that poop in
charge of the ship, and I didn't know whether I was in the Indian Ocean
or in the moon. I was crazy. My head spun round and round with sheer
worry. I had made my last application of your chemist's wonderful
stuff." (This to me.) "All the store of bottles you gave me got smashed
when those drawers fell out in the last gale. I had been getting some
dry things to change, when I heard the cry: 'All hands on deck!' and
made one jump of it, without even pushing them in properly. Ass! When I
came back and saw the broken glass and the mess, I felt ready to faint.