But where are
your own family tombstones?"
"They are over in that farther corner. There is an intelligent, but
inopportune, person apparently copying the epitaphs. I wish he would go
away. I want to show them to you."
I now noticed, for the first time, an individual engaged, note-book in
hand, in making a careful survey of a group of old headstones. Evidently
he was making a copy of the inscriptions, for not only was he poring
attentively over the writing on the face of the stone, but now and again
he helped out his vision by running his fingers over the worn lettering.
"That is my grandfather's tombstone that he is copying now," said Miss
Bellingham; and even as she spoke, the man turned and directed a
searching glance at us with a pair of keen, spectacled eyes.
Simultaneously we uttered an exclamation of surprise; for the
investigator was Mr. Jellicoe.
CHAPTER XVI
"O! ARTEMIDORUS, FAREWELL!"
Whether or not Mr. Jellicoe was surprised to see us, it is impossible to
say. His countenance (which served the ordinary purposes of a face,
inasmuch as it contained the principal organs of special sense, with the
inlets to the alimentary and respiratory tracts) was, as an apparatus
for the expression of the emotions, a total failure.
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