"I have noticed the old gentleman often, when I have been reading near
the window; and own that I should like to know him. I think, too, from
certain signs, that he would not object to knowing me. Unless I am much
mistaken, he has bowed to me several times. But fearing that the
supposed bow might have been nothing more than a sleepy nod, I have
never ventured to answer it. Step back a moment, and see if he
observes me."

Maltboy and Overtop retired a few paces. A moment afterward, the old
gentleman looked over to Wilkeson, and made a bow at him about which
there could be no mistake.

"Answer him." "Answer him," said his two friends. Acting upon this
advice, Marcus Wilkeson, blushing, returned a courtly salute, which was
immediately reciprocated by a still lower bow, and a pleasant smile from
the old gentleman. Wilkeson bowed again, and added a smile. The old
gentleman did the same; and this odd exchange of civilities was
beginning to get awkward for Wilkeson, when the old gentleman's
attention was suddenly called off.

A slender young man, whose broad black mustache contrasted unpleasantly
with the sallow whiteness of his face, dressed in the jauntiest costume
of the period, and bearing in one hand a black cane with a large ivory
handle, which looked, even in the distance, like a human leg, stood by
the old gentleman's side. The old gentleman put down his pipe, seized
the young man's disengaged hand, and gazed affectionately at him (so the
three observers thought). Some conversation then took place between
them, during which the old gentleman repeatedly pressed the young man's
hand, and sometimes reached up and softly patted him on the shoulder.
The young man appeared to receive the words and caresses of the old