Port Vigor is a fascinating old town. It is built on a point jutting
out into the Sound. Dimly in the distance one can see the end of
Long Island, which Mifflin viewed with sparkling eyes. It seemed to
bring him closer to Brooklyn. Several schooners were beating along
the estuary in the fresh wind, and there was a delicious tang of
brine in the air. We drove direct to the station where the Professor
alighted. We took his portmanteau, and shut Bock inside the van to
prevent the dog from following him. Then there was an awkward pause
as he stood by the wheel with his cap off.

"Well, Miss McGill," he said, "there's an express train at five
o'clock, so with luck I shall be in Brooklyn to-night. My brother's
address is 600 Abingdon Avenue, and I hope when you're sending a
card to the Sage you'll let me have one, too. I shall be very
homesick for Parnassus, but I'd rather leave her with you than with
any one I know."

He bowed very low, and before I could say a word he blew his nose
violently and hurried away. I saw him carrying his valise into the
station, and then he disappeared. I suppose that living alone with
Andrew for all these years has unused me to the eccentricities of
other people, but surely this little Redbeard was one of the
strangest beings one would be likely to meet.

Bock yowled dismally inside, and I did not feel in any mood to sell
books in Port Vigor. I drove back into the town and stopped at a tea
shop for a pot of tea and some toast. When I came out I found that
quite a little crowd had collected, partly owing to the strange
appearance of Parnassus and partly because of Bock's plaintive cries