Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 2).djvu/269

 There was a gentle rap on the door, and Mary got up and opened it.

"Is Mr. Pentreath within?"

"Yes, sir."

"Can I see him?"

A voice like an echo—clear and intelligible enough, but still an echo. Sim had risen to his feet. The light of the lamp flickered in the wind, and he could see nothing distinctly. The flame steadied itself as the stranger crossed the threshold.

"Good God, can it be? Phil!"

Sim asks the question in tones of surprise, wonderment, fear. Thought has bridged the twenty-four years or so since his brother left the homestead: he feels, with a quick gasp of agony, the old wound re-opening. And yet—and yet, this cannot be Phil.

"Well, now, that's strange," said the visitor. "How the deuce do you, who have never seen me, come to recognise me directly you clap eyes in my direction? There must be a strong family likeness somewhere. I am Phil—Phil Pentreath, at your service. And you're my uncle—Uncle Sim—of whom I've heard so much, and long wished to see. Won't you shake hands with a fellow? I've come all the way from Melbourne for that express purpose."

Sim shook hands with him like one in a dream. It seemed so unreal; and yet there was that dull pain which he had thought dead, throb, throb, throbbing into life, and making all so real. For he began to understand: this was Phil's son—her son. He was just like what the father had been twenty-four years since: the same figure, eyes, expression—the same name, too.

Luckily, Mary was there. By her womanly tact all feeling of constraint disappeared, and they were soon seated around the fire engaged in animated conversation. Phil Pentreath, sen., it appeared, had prospered of recent years—was regarded quite as a wealthy man in the colonies. Then he woke up to the consciousness that he had a brother, and Phil Pentreath, jun., the only son, who had long felt a wish to see England, was sent, as his father's envoy, to "look old Sim up."

"So, you see, I've looked you up," said the young man, "though I must say you didn't seem very pleased at first. Anyhow, you must put up with me for a bit, for my father's sake. In a little while I hope you will put up with me for my own."