Yet Bride noticed nothing different in his manner as they reached the beach, and were able to walk on side by side. He was a little absent and thoughtful perhaps, as was natural with the interview just hanging over him; and it soon appeared that their journey was not in vain, for the tall form of Saul was seen seated upon a rock not far away, and Bride said softly to Eustace, “There he is. I think you had better go to him alone. I will go and see some of the poor people and join you later on.” Eustace was grateful to her for this suggestion. Now that he was almost face to face with his quondam pupil, he felt that he would rather be alone. He did not know in what mood Saul would meet him, and it was better perhaps that they should be without the fetter which the presence of Bride must necessarily impose. Without pausing to rehearse any speech, Eustace walked straight up to the lonely figure on the rock, and holding out his hand in greeting (a demonstration very rare in those days between men of such different stations), said, with warm feeling, “Tresithny, you have suffered in what you took to be the cause of the people. That must make a fresh bond between us, whatever else we may have to say upon the subject.” Saul started at the sound of the familiar, unexpected voice (the plash of the waves had drowned approaching footsteps); he started again at sight of the outstretched hand; but after a moment of visible hesitation, he took it in his grasp and wrung it till Eustace could have winced. The sombre face was working strangely. The mask of stolid indifference and contempt had fallen from it. There was a new light in the hollow eyes as they met the searching gaze of Eustace’s, and the first words came out with something of a gasp. “Then you have come at last, sir, and you have not changed!” “Why should I change?” asked Eustace, with a smile, wonderfully relieved to find that this unapproachable man, who was puzzling all the world besides, did not turn a deaf ear upon him. Shocked as he was at the change he saw in the outward aspect of Saul, he saw that it was the same Saul as of old, a man full of strength and fight--a tool that might be dangerous to work with, or of inestimable value, according as it could be guided and tempered. A sense of true admiration and fellowship sprang up within him towards this stern-faced son of toil, with his sorrowful story and suffering face. “Why should I change?” he asked; and then Saul’s pent-up feeling burst out.