I was a little amused at his abrupt
manner, for he was still a young man, and had somewhat the air of a
navy officer; but he tackled me with great solemnity. I could make
fun of what he said, for I do not think it was very wise; but the
subject does not appear to me just now in a jesting light, so I
shall only say that he related to me his own conversion, which had
been effected (as is very often the case) through the agency of a
gig accident, and that, after having examined me and diagnosed my
case, he selected some suitable tracts from his repertory, gave
them to me, and, bidding me God-speed, went on his way.
LAST OF SMETHURST
That evening I got into a third-class carriage on my way for
Keswick, and was followed almost immediately by a burly man in
brown clothes. This fellow-passenger was seemingly ill at ease,
and kept continually putting his head out of the window, and asking
the bystanders if they saw HIM coming. At last, when the train was
already in motion, there was a commotion on the platform, and a way
was left clear to our carriage door. HE had arrived. In the hurry
I could just see Smethurst, red and panting, thrust a couple of
clay pipes into my companion's outstretched band, and hear him
crying his farewells after us as we slipped out of the station at
an ever accelerating pace. I said something about it being a close
run, and the broad man, already engaged in filling one of the
pipes, assented, and went on to tell me of his own stupidity in
forgetting a necessary, and of how his friend had good-naturedly
gone down town at the last moment to supply the omission.
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