sidder's bald scalp.
Years after, he could recall the exact poise of Ruby's head as she
answered some question of her companion. The stranger left her, and
strolled slowly down the room to the fireplace, when he faced round,
throwing an arm negligently along the mantel-shelf, and leant with legs
crossed, waiting.

Then Young Zeb made up his mind, and stepped out into the middle of the
floor. The musicians were sawing with might and main at high speed.
He crossed his arms, and, fixing his eyes on the stranger's, began the
hornpipe.

When it ceased, he had danced his best. It was only when the applause
broke out that he knew he had fastened, from start to finish, on the man
by the fireplace a pair of eyes blazing with hate. The other had stared
back quietly, as if he noted only the performance. As the music ended
sharply with the click of Young Zeb's two heels, the stranger bent, took
up a pair of tongs, and rearranged the fire before lifting his head.

"Yes," he said, slowly, but in tones that were extremely distinct as the
clapping died away, "that was wonderfully danced. In some ways I should
almost say you were inspired. A slight want of airiness in the
double-shuffle, perhaps--"

"Could you do't better?" asked Zeb, sulkily.

"That isn't the fair way to treat criticism, my friend; but yes--oh,
yes, certainly I could do it better--in your shoes."

"Then try, i' my shoes." And Zeb kicked them off.

"I've a notion they'll fit me," was all the stranger answered, dropping
on one knee and beginning to unfasten the cumbrous boots he had borrowed
of Farmer Tresidder.

Indeed, the curious likeness in build of these two men--a likeness
accentuated, rather than slurred, by their contrast in colour and face,
was now seen to extend even to their feet. When the stranger stood up
at length in Zeb's shoes, they fitted him to a nicety, the broad steel
buckles lying comfortably over the instep, the back of the uppers
closing round the hollow of his ankle like a skin.

Young Zeb, by this, had crossed shoeless to the fireplace, and now stood
in the position lately occupied by his rival: only, whereas the stranger
had lolled easily, Zeb stood squarely, with his legs wide apart and his
hands deep in his pockets. He had no eyes for the intent faces around,
no ears for their whispering, nor for the preliminary scrape of the
instruments; but stood like an image, with the firelight flickering out
between his calves, and wa