He had in
his valise some very pretty little colored sketches of scenes in
Mexico and California, which he showed us after supper. Why he
carried these pictures--which were done on stiff paper--about with
him I do not know. He said he did not care to sell them, as he
might use them for studies for larger pictures some day. His
valise, which he opened wide on the table, seemed to be filled with
papers, drawings, and matters of that kind. I suppose he preferred
to wear his clothes, instead of carrying them about in his valise.
After sitting for about half an hour after supper, he rose, with an
uncertain sort of smile, and said he supposed he must be moving
on,--asking, at the same time, how far it was to the tavern over
the ridge.
"Just wait one moment, if you please," said Euphemia. And she
beckoned me out of the room.
"Don't you think," said she, "that we could keep him all night?
There's no moon, and it would be a fearful dark walk, I know, to
the other side of the mountain. There is a room upstairs that I
can fix for him in ten minutes, and I know he's honest."
"How do you know it?" I asked.
"Well, because he wears such curious-colored clothes. No criminal
would ever wear such clothes. He could never pass unnoticed
anywhere; and being probably the only person in the world who
dressed that way, he could always be detected."
"You are doubtless correct," I replied. "Let us keep him."
When we told the good man that he could stay all night, he was
extremely obliged to us, and went to bed quite early.
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