Episode of the Sentimental Anarchist
sian. Wilkins had tried in vain to scrape his acquaintance, for the fellow seemed so nervous and wild-eyed that he fled from all overtures. In fact, so Wilkins informed me, "he flocked by himself as if he was afraid of something." We lingered at the rail that barred the passage to the second cabin, and scanned the long row of steamer chairs. Wilkins was confident that the Russian would take a turn on deck before dinner, and said that when he walked it was with a head-long gait and incoherent mutterings to himself.
A little later a man of singular appearance emerged from the deck house aft and crossing to the vessel's side stood glaring at the inter minable carpet of blue water. His figure was slender and slouching, his attire well cared for but shabby, and that which made his otherwise commonplace aspect conspicuous was the framing of his features. Beard, whiskers, mustache, there were no lines of demarcation. The luxuriant and rayonnant growth encircled and fairly obscured his lineaments. It was almost as if he wore a mask, but such
