appearance might have been called prepossessing. In his figure there was
the grace, in his step the elasticity which come from just proportions
and muscular strength. In his hand he carried a supple switch-stick,
slight and innocuous to appearance, but weighted at the handle after the
fashion of a life-preserver. The tone of his voice was not displeasing
to the ear, though there might be something artificial in the swell of
it,--the sort of tone men assume when they desire to seem more frank and
off-hand than belongs to their nature,--a sort of rollicking tone which
is to the voice what swagger is to, the gait. Still that look! it
produced on you the effect which might be created by some strange animal,
not without beauty, but deadly to man. Wayfarer the Second was big and
burly, middle-aged, large-whiskered, his complexion dirty. He wore a
wig,--a wig evident, unmistakable,--a wig curled and rusty,--over the wig
a dingy white hat. His black stock fitted tight round his throat, and
across his breast he had thrown the folds of a Scotch plaid.

WAYFARER THE FIRST.--"YOU call here, too,--on Mrs. Crane?"

WAYFARER THE SECOND.--"Mrs. Crane? you too? Strange!"

WAYFARER THE FIRST (with constrained civility).--"Sir, I call on
business,--private business."

WAYFARER THE SECOND (with candid surliness).--"So do I."

WAYFARER THE FIRST.--"Oh!"

WAYFARER THE SECOND.--"Ha! the locks unbar!"

The door opened, and an old meagre woman-servant presented herself.