the same short jerk, to resume the same short path, and yet
never interchanging a word, the rhythm of the footfall the only tie of
companionship between them? They halt occasionally, too, to look over
the bulwarks at some white sail far away, or some cloud-bank rising from
the horizon; mayhap they linger to watch the rolling porpoises as they
pass, or the swift nautilus as he glides along; but yet never a sound
nor token of mutual intelligence escapes them. It is enough that they
live surrounded by the same influences, breathe the same air, and step
in the same time; they have their separate thoughts, wide, perhaps, as
the poles asunder, and yet by some strange magnetism they feel there is
a kind of sociality in their speechless intercourse.

From some such cause, perhaps, it was that Colonel Haggerstone and Jekyl
took their accustomed walk in the dreary dining-room of the "Hotel de
Russie." The evening was cold and cheerless, as on that when first we
met them there, a drifting rain, mingled with sleet, beat against the
windows, and the wind, in mournful cadences, sighed along the dreary and
deserted corridors. It was a comfortless scene within doors and without.
A chance glance through the window, an occasional halt to listen when
the thunder rolled louder and nearer, showed that, to a certain extent,
the same emotions were common to each; but nothing else betrayed any
community of sentiment between them, as they paced the room from end to
end.

"English people come abroad for climate!" said Haggerstone, as he
buttoned his collar tightly around his neck, and pressed his hat more
firmly on his head. "But who ever saw the like of this in England?"

"In England you have weather, but no climate!" said Jekyl, with one
of his little smiles of self-approval; for he caressed himself when he
uttered a mot, and seemed to feel no slight access of self-satisfaction.

"It's not the worst thing we have there, sir, I promise you," rejoined
Haggerstone, authoritatively.

"Our coughs and rheumatics are, indeed, sore drawbacks upon patriotism."

"I do not speak of them, sir; I allude to our insolent, overbearing
aristocracy, who, sprung from the people as they are, recruited from the
ranks of trade or law, look down upon the really ancient blood of the
land, the untitled nobility. Who are they, sir, that treat us thus? The
fortunate speculator, who has amassed a million; the Attorney-General,
who has risen to a Chief-Justiceship; m