Some half-mile along the road, upon the left hand, was a stile,
and beyond the stile, a path--a path that led away over field,
and meadow, and winding stream, to the blue verge of distant
woods.
Now, midway between these woods and the place where I stood, there
moved three figures; and, far away though they were, I could still
make out that the middle one walked with his hands--those tremulous
betraying hands thrust deep within his pockets.
And presently I climbed the stile, and set off along the path.
"Sir Jasper!" said I to myself. Somewhere in the background of
my consciousness I had a vague recollection of having heard
mention of such a name before, but exactly when and where I could
not, for the life of me, remember.
"Sir Jasper!" said I to myself again. "It is a very uncommon
name, and should be easy to recollect." I had often prided
myself on possessing a singularly retentive memory, more
especially for names and faces, but, upon the present occasion,
the more I pondered the matter, the more hazy I became. So I
walked on through the sweet, wet grass, racking my brain for a
solution of the problem, but finding none.
When I again looked up, the three figures had vanished where the
path took a sharp bend round a clump of pollard oaks, and,
determined not to lose them, I hurried my steps; but when I, in
turn, rounded the corner, not a soul was in sight.
The path sloped up gently before me, with a thick hedge upon my
right, and, after crossing a brawling stream, lost itself in the
small wood or coppice, that crowned the ascent. Wondering, I
hastened forward, and then, happening to look through the hedge,
which grew very thick and high, I stopped all at once.
On the other side of the hedge was a strip of meadow bounded by
the brook I have mentioned; now across this stream was a small
rustic bridge, and on this bridge was a man. Midway between this
man and myself stood a group of four gentlemen, all talking very
earnestly together, to judge by their actions, while somewhat
apart from these, his head bent, his hands still thrust deep in
his pockets, stood Sir Jasper. And from him, for no apparent
reason, my eyes wandered to the man upon the bridge--a tall,
broad-shouldered fellow, in a buff-colored greatcoat, who
whistled to himself, and stared down into the stream, swinging
his tasselled riding-boot to and fro. All at once, as if in
response to some signal, he rose, and unbuttoning his surtout,
drew it off and flung it across the handrail of the bridge.