Erle wrote that
note, but did not sign it; and after many years of happy freedom from
the pen, his handwriting was so changed that his own father would not
know it. What he feared was the sudden shock to his good mother; his
father's nerves were strong, and must be used as buffers.
"Another trouble, probably; there is nothing now but trouble," Mr.
Twemlow was thinking, as he walked unwillingly towards the place
appointed. "I wish I could only guess what I can have done to deserve
all these trials, as I become less fit to bear them. I would never
have come to this lonely spot, except that it may be about Shargeloes.
Everything now is turned upside down; but the Lord knows best, and I
must bear it. Sir, who are you? And what do you want me for?"
At the corner where Miss Dolly had rushed into the Rector's open arms so
fast, a tall man, clad in white, was standing, with a staff about
eight feet long in his hand. Having carried a spear for four years now,
Captain Twemlow found no comfort in his native land until he had cut the
tallest growth in Admiral Darling's osier bed, and peeled it, and shaved
it to a seven-sided taper. He rested this point in a socket of moss,
that it might not be blunted, and then replied:
"Father, you ought to know me, although you have grown much stouter in
my absence; and perhaps I am thinner than I used to be. But the climate
disagreed with me, until I got to like it."
"Erle! Do you mean to say you are my boy Erle?" The Rector was
particular about his clothes.
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