muttered something about being in "a very uncomfortable fix."

Mr. Abbot unfastened the chain, threw wide the door, and invited the
unknown to come in out of the storm.

"Thanks," was the courteous response; "but I will not trespass upon your
hospitality if you will kindly direct me to the inn of which you speak.
The darkness came on so suddenly that I lost my way. I left Oreana at
noon to go to Humboldt, but my horse sprained his foot on the rough
mountain road, and I have had to come at a snail's pace ever since."

"You are sadly out of your way, indeed, if you are going to Humboldt, for
it is a good ten miles from here. Come in--come in out of the pouring
rain, and we will discuss what will be best for you to do," returned his
host, in a hearty tone, for he was won by the man's frankness and
courtesy.

The stranger stepped, dripping, into the hall, a tall, straight figure,
booted and spurred, and enveloped in waterproof jacket, trousers, and
havelock.

"Thanks," he said, "you are very kind; but allow me to introduce myself;
my name is Heath--William Heath, at your service."

"Then, Mr. Heath, come to my fireside and dry and warm yourself; my name
is Abbot and this is my daughter," replied Mr. Abbot, leading the way into
the cheerful parlor whither Virgie had retired when her father opened the
door to the benighted wayfarer.

Mr. Heath bowed with all the polish that could have been expected of him