"None of the town boys, that's certain.

Never saw such a figure but once before! If any thing, this is the better man of the two.
By-the-way, what if it should be--! Humph! I believe it is, sure enough." By this time the stranger, a very tall and broadly built young man, with a close brown beard, and quick, comprehensive eyes, had arrived opposite the house, and stood with one hand on the gate.
"Is this the parsonage ?" demanded he, speaking with great rapidity of utterance, and turning his head half sideways as he spoke, without, however, removing his eyes from the professor's face.
The old gentleman nodded his head, "It is known by that name, sir!" said he.
With the almost impatient quickness which marked every thing he did--a quickness which did not seem in any way allied to slovenliness or inaccuracy, however--the young man pushed through the gate, which protested loudly against such rough usage, and walked hastily up to the porch-steps.

He paused a moment ere ascending.
"Are you Professor Valeyon ?" he asked.
Again the professor bowed his head in assent.

"And are you-- ?" began he.
The young man sprang up the steps, and grasping the other's half-extended hand, gave it a brief, hard shake.
"I'm Bressant," said he..