till, chancing one night to return unexpectedly from a journey,
upon entering his apartment, a stranger burst from the alcove: "Begar!"
cried he, "now I _begin_ to suspec."

His story told, the wooden-legged man threw back his head, and gave vent
to a long, gasping, rasping sort of taunting cry, intolerable as that of
a high-pressure engine jeering off steam; and that done, with apparent
satisfaction hobbled away.

"Who is that scoffer," said the man in gray, not without warmth. "Who is
he, who even were truth on his tongue, his way of speaking it would make
truth almost offensive as falsehood. Who is he?"

"He who I mentioned to you as having boasted his suspicion of the
negro," replied the young clergyman, recovering from disturbance, "in
short, the person to whom I ascribe the origin of my own distrust; he
maintained that Guinea was some white scoundrel, betwisted and painted
up for a decoy. Yes, these were his very words, I think."

"Impossible! he could not be so wrong-headed. Pray, will you call him
back, and let me ask him if he were really in earnest?"

The other complied; and, at length, after no few surly objections,
prevailed upon the one-legged individual to return for a moment. Upon
which, the man in gray thus addressed him: "This reverend gentleman
tells me, sir, that a certain cripple, a poor negro, is by you
considered an ingenious impostor. Now, I am not unaware that there are
some persons in this world, who, unable to give better proof of being
wise, take a strange delight in showing what they think they have
sagaciously read in mankind by uncharitable suspicions of them. I hope
you are not one of these. In short, would you tell me now, whether you
were not merely joking in the notion you threw out about the negro.
Would you be so kind?"

"No, I won't be so kind, I'll be so cruel."

"As you please about that."

"Well, he's just what I said he was."

"A white masquerading as a black?"

"Exactly."

The man in gray glanced at the young clergyman a moment, then quietly
whispered to him, "I thought you represented your friend here as a very
distrustful sort of person, but he appears endued with a singular
credulity.--Tell me, sir, do you really think that a white could look
the negro so? For one, I should call it pretty good acting."

"Not much better than any other man acts."

"How? Does all the world act? Am _I_, for instance, an actor? Is my
reverend friend here, too, a performer?"

"Y