decayed  gentleman.  Even  his  garments  —  especially
after  I  had  myself  quaffed  a  glass  or  two  —  looked  lesi
shabby  than  when  we  first  sat  down.  There  was,  by
and  by,  a  certain  exuberance  and  elaborateness  of  ges
ture  and  manner,  oddly  in  contrast  with  all  that  I  had
hitherto  seen  of  him.  Anon,  with  hardly  any  impulse
from  me,  old  Moodie  began  to  talk.  His  communica
tions  referred  exclusively  to  a  long  past  and  more  fortun
ate  period  of  his  life,  with  only  a  few  unavoidable  allu
sions  to  the  circumstances  that  had  reduced  him  to  his
present  state.  But,  having  once  got  the  clue,  my  subse
quent  researches  acquainted  me  with  the  main  facts  of
the  following  narrative  ;  although,  in  writing  it  out,  my
pen  has  perhaps  allowed  itself  a  trifle  of  romantic  and
legendary  license,  worthier  of  a  small  poet  than  of  *
grave  biographer.
XXII.
