Lady Evelyn — page 135: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

128 Old Friends Meet. new moon presently to light him on his way to the gypsy encampment. The long facade of the old house twinkled with many lights as he passed it, but no one was visible. Servants and all were busy at this busiest hour of the long day. He passed the old mansion and wended his way along the shrubbery to where the river ran, like a strip of silver ribbon set in green. As it came in view he patsed sud- denly, with a faint exclamation. Fortune had favored the tramp for a second time to-day. : The silvery twilight gemmed with stars, and lit by a crescent moon, revealed every object in its soft brilliancy —the murmuring trees, the glancing ripples of the river, the reeds, the water-lilies, the yellow willows fringing its margi>, and the lonely figure of a man—the only living creature in the landscape—standing still as a statue, gaz- ing out over the glancing water lit by yon magic moon. “So,” said the tramp, under his breath, “I have run my fox to earth at last! Now, for the tug of war, now for a surprise, my great lord earl!” His feet made no sound on the greensward; he was at the great man’s elbow, unseen and unheard. “A fine evening, my Lord Clontarf! Since when have you grown pastoral?’ The Earl of Clontarf swung round and looked in blank amaze at this unexpected apparition. Side by side they stood in the starry twilight, a strange contrast. “Qur tastes alter as we grow older,” pursued the tramp, transfixing the great earl with an unwinking stare. “Twenty years ago, if [ remember right, Mr. Gerald Des- mond wasn't siven to star-gazing. It isa long time since we have met, my lord, and neither of us have altered, I am afraid, for the better.” “Who are you?’ The cold, harsh voice of the peer expressed neither sur- prise nor alarm; the rigid, bloodless, haughty face never moved a muscle. | “An old friend, my lord—a friend who did you good _ service once. Fightéen years’ penal servitude may have greatly changed me, but not beyond your noble recogni- - tion, I hope.”’ He took off his battered hat, and sina with he pray