And then something else occurred--something really strange. I was
conscious, as one sometimes is in a crowd, that I was being stared at by
some one deliberately. I looked about me, and then, led by the
attraction of the other's gaze, I saw quite close to me, on the edge of
the crowd nearest to the platform, the Rat.
He was dressed rather jauntily in a dark suit with his cup set on one
side, and his hair shining and curled. His face glittered with soap, and
he was smiling in his usual friendly way. He gazed at me quite steadily.
My lips moved very slightly in recognition. He smiled and, I fancy,
winked.
Then, as though he had actually spoken to me, I seemed to hear him say:
"Well, good-bye.... I'm never coming to you again. Good-bye, good-bye."
It was as definite a farewell as you can have from a man, more definite
than you will have from most, as though, further, he said: "I'm gone for
good and all. I have other company and more profitable plunder. On the
back of our glorious Revolution I rise from crime to crime....
Good-bye."
I was, in sober truth, never to speak to him again. I cannot but regret
that on the last occasion when I should have a real opportunity of
looking him full in the face, he was to offer me a countenance of
friendly good-humour and amiable rascality.
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