Hector was the best-behaved, best-tempered animal in the world; he
might have been called a gentlemanly dog. So little was there of the
unmannerly puppy in his behaviour, that I was perfectly astonished
at his ungracious conduct. I caught him by the collar, and not
without some difficulty, succeeded in dragging him off.
"Is Captain Moodie within?" said the stranger.
"He is, sir. But he is ill in bed - too ill to be seen."
"Tell him a friend" (he laid a strong stress upon the last word),
"a particular friend must speak to him."
I now turned my eyes to the face of the speaker with some curiosity.
I had taken him for a mechanic, from his dirty, slovenly appearance;
and his physiognomy was so unpleasant that I did not credit his
assertion that he was a friend of my husband, for I was certain
that no man who possessed such a forbidding aspect could be regarded
by Moodie as a friend. I was about to deliver his message, but the
moment I let go Hector's collar, the dog was at him again.
"Don't strike him with your stick," I cried, throwing my arms over
the faithful creature. "He is a powerful animal, and if you provoke
him, he will kill you."
I at last succeeded in coaxing Hector into the girl's room, where I
shut him up, while the stranger came into the kitchen, and walked to
the fire to dry his wet clothes.
I immediately went into the parlour, where Moodie was lying upon a
bed near the stove, to deliver the stranger's message; but before I
could say a word, he dashed in after me, and going up to the bed,
held out his broad, coarse hand, with "How are you, Mr. Moodie? You
see I have accepted your kind invitation sooner than either you or
I expected. If you will give me house-room for the night, I shall
be obliged to you."
This was said in a low, mysterious voice; and Moodie, who was still
struggling with the hot fit of his disorder, and whose senses were
not a little confused, stared at him with a look of vague
bewilderment. The countenance of the stranger grew dark.
"You cannot have forgotten me - my name is Malcolm."
"Yes, sir; I remember you now," said the invalid holding out his
burning, feverish hand. "To my home, such as it is, you are
welcome."
I stood by in wondering astonishment, looking from one to the other,
as I had no recollection of ever hearing my husband mention the name
of the stranger; but as he had invited him to share our hospitality,
I did my best to make him welcome though in what manner he was to
be accommodated puzzled me not a little. I placed the arm-chair by
the fire, and told him that I would prepare tea for him as soon as
I could.
