rang the bell. After a short wait, the door was thrown open by a servant and we hurriedly entered, my acquaintance calling to the chauffeur as we did so to proceed at once to the stables and wait until the rain had moderated before setting out upon his return journey.

We found ourselves in a large, dimly[7] lighted hallway. I inspected the man who had admitted us with considerable curiosity as he closed the door behind us, not only because of his Oriental appearance—he was a Chinaman of the better sort—but also because he was dressed in his native garb, his richly embroidered jacket reflecting the faint light of the hall with subdued, yet brilliant, effect. He upon his part showed not the slightest interest in our coming, as he inspected us with his childlike, sleepy eyes. "Tell Major Temple," said my friend to the man, as he handed him his dripping coat and hat, "that Mr. Robert Ashton is here, and—" He turned to me with a questioning glance. "Owen Morgan," I replied, wondering if he would know me by name. If he did, he showed no sign. "Just so—Mr. Owen Morgan," he continued, then strode toward a log fire which crackled and sputtered cheerily upon the hearth of a huge stone fireplace. I gave the man my cap and stick,[8]—I was walking in a heavy Norfolk jacket, my portmanteau having been sent ahead by train to Exeter—and joined Mr. Ashton before the fire.

[7]

[8]

"I'm afraid I'm rather presuming upon the situation," I suggested, "to make myself so much at home here; but perhaps the storm will slacken up presently."

"Major Temple will be glad to see you, I'm sure," rejoined Mr. Ashton, unconcernedly. "You can't possibly go on, you know—listen!" He waved his hand toward the leaded windows against which the storm was now driving with furious force.

"I'm afraid not," I answered, a bit ungraciously. I have a deep-rooted dislike to imposing myself upon strangers, and I felt that my unceremonious arrival at the house of Major Temple might be less appreciated by that gentleman than my companion seemed to think likely.

"The Major is a queer old character," Mr. Ashton remarked, "great traveler[9] and collector. I'm here on a matter of business myself—partly at least. He'll be glad to meet you. I fancy he's a bit lonely with nobody to keep him company but his daughter. Here he comes now." He turned toward a tall, spare man with gray hair and drooping gray mustache, who entered the hall. His face, 

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