‘Do not look at me so,’ he snapped. Instead, her husband was probably wise. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him. That was what she was trying to make him understand. ‘I am nine-and-twenty,’ he answered. She turned quickly. Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. Spurling stood her negro attendant, Caliban; a hideous, misshapen, malicious monster, with broad hunched shoulders, a flat nose, and ears like those of a wild beast, a head too large for his body, and a body too long for his legs. "Surely," he added, staring at Rowland, "either I'm greatly mistaken, or it is—" "You are not mistaken, Baptist," returned Rowland with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend. " O'Higgins extracted a cigar from a pocket and inspected it.
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