62 Simpson's snipe 



apart, as though his hands were wooden stretchers. 

 His portmanteau, solid leather, was brand new ; the 

 very purse from which he extracted a new sixpence 

 to tip the porter was of the same virgin type. He 

 w^as mistaken for a bridegroom, and the fair bride 

 was eagerly sought for by the expectant porter 

 whilst removing a new rug from the compartment 

 in which Mr Simpson had been seated. To crown 

 all this newness, his gun-case, solid leather, had 

 never seen the open air till this day, and the iron 

 which impressed upon it Mr Eigby's brand could 

 scarcely have had time to grow cold. 



'•' Begorra, it's in the waxworks he ought for to 

 be," muttered Billy Doyle, grimly surveying him 

 from head to foot. 



Mr Simpson's thick moustache possessed a queer 

 sort of curl, his nose too, followed this pattern, so 

 that his face somewhat resembled those three legs 

 which are impressed upon a Manx coin. His eyes 

 were long slits, with narrow lids, not unlike a cut 

 in a kid glove: one of these eyes he kept open by 

 means of an eyeglass. This eyeglass was perpetually 

 dropping into his bosom and disappearing, never 

 coming to the surface when required, and only 

 coming up to breathe after a succession of prolonged 

 and abortive dives. 



" It's very cold," he exclaimed, grasping my 



