vestige of that high
courage that made their ancestors clothe themselves in original and
astonishing vestments. And it is this fortuitous difference, this tiny
leak, one might say, of their personality, that stamps them finally as
belonging to an immense mediocrity. It is this subtle and microscopic
change, a sixteenth of an inch in the height of a collar, a line in the
pattern of a scarf, a hair's breadth in the disposition of a crease,
that the psychologists of the market-place call distinction, and labour
industriously to supply.

But the man who now crossed the street and stood before us bore neither
in his apparel nor in his lineaments a single detail by which he could
be remembered. In everything, from his black medium-toed boots to his
Derby hat of untarnished respectability, from his recently-shaven chin
to his steady grey-blue eyes, he betrayed not the slightest caprice
which would enable an observer to distinguish him from a particular
type. It was as though he had been conscious of all this and had even
sought to avoid the most trivial peculiarities. In height, in feature,
in dress, he was so ordinary that he became extraordinary. His intention
to be unnoticed was so obvious that it predicated, in my own mind at
least, a character and possibly an occupation out of the common run.

"Can you tell me," he began in a voice that gave no hint of emotion,
"can you tell me if this is Van Diemen's Avenue?"

"Yes," we said all together, studying him the while. "Yes, this is Van
Diemen's Avenue."

"Thanks," he replied, and withdrew his foot from our bottom step.

It seemed as though he was about to depart and leave us guessing, when
he spoke again.

"Perhaps you know the house I want," he said. "Carville's the name. I,"
he added as if in an afterthought, "am Mr. Carville." And he looked at
us gravely, apparently unaware of the turmoil of curiosity which he had
aroused.

Some one--I think it was Mac--pointed to the next house.

"That's it," we managed to say.

For a moment his eyes rested upon it casually.

"Thanks," he said again, and then, "Much obliged." He stepped back to
the sidewalk and walked along to the house. None of us can recall
exactly what happened when he approached his door, for we were all
looking away across the valley, hastily rearranging our chaotic
impressions. It is to be presumed that he knocked and was admitted. When
we glanced round a few moments later he was gone.

"Great Scott!"