Now for the look of this man, he seemed a century old, being bald,
extremely wrinkled, with wide hollows where the teeth should be, and
the flesh hanging loose and flaccid on his cheek-bones; and what
colour he had could have come only from exposure to that bitter
night. But his eyes chiefly spoke of his extreme age. They were
blue and deep, and filled with the wisdom of years; and when he
turned them in my direction they appeared to look through me, beyond
me, and back upon centuries of sorrow and the slow endurance of man,
as if his immediate misfortune were but an inconsiderable item in a
long list. They frightened me. Perhaps they conveyed a warning of
that which I was to endure at their owner's hands. From compassion,
I ordered the servants to take him to my wife, with word that I
wished her to set food before him, and see that it passed his lips.
So much I did for this Stranger. Now learn how he rewarded me.
He has taken my youth from me, and the most of my substance, and the
love of my wife.
From the hour when he tasted food in my house, he sat there without
hint of going. Whether from design, or because age and his
sufferings had really palsied him, he came back tediously to life and
warmth, nor for many days professed himself able to stand erect.
Meanwhile he lived on the best of our hospitality. My wife tended
him, and my servants ran at his bidding; for he managed early to make
them understand scraps of his language, though slow in acquiring
ours--I believe out of calculation, lest someone should inquire his
business (which was a mystery) or hint at his departure.
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