"
The signature was such a scrawl that my father could not read it, but
underneath was printed, "Mayor of Sunchildston, formerly called
Coldharbour."
What a mass of information did not my father gather as he read, but what
a far greater mass did he not see that he must get hold of ere he could
reconstruct his plans intelligently.
"The year three," indeed; and XIX. xii. 29, in Roman and Arabic
characters! There were no such characters when he was in Erewhon before.
It flashed upon him that he had repeatedly shewn them to the Nosnibors,
and had once even written them down. It could not be that . . . No, it
was impossible; and yet there was the European dress, aimed at by the one
Professor, and attained by the other. Again "XIX." what was that? "xii."
might do for December, but it was now the 4th of December not the 29th.
"Afforested" too? Then that was why he had seen no sheep tracks. And
how about the quails he had so innocently killed? What would have
happened if he had tried to sell them in Coldharbour? What other like
fatal error might he not ignorantly commit? And why had Coldharbour
become Sunchildston?
These thoughts raced through my poor father's brain as he slowly perused
the paper handed to him by the Professors. To give himself time he
feigned to be a poor scholar, but when he had delayed as long as he
dared, he returned it to the one who had given it him.
Pages:
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49