"Who have we here?" said the baronet to himself; "that face can belong
to no one in the house."

He walked straight to the window--the face never moved. A hand was
raised and tapped on the glass. A voice outside spoke:

"For Heaven's sake, open and let me in, before I perish in this bitter
storm."

Sir Jasper Kingsland opened the window and flung it wide.

"Enter! whoever you are," he said. "No one shall ask in vain at
Kingsland, this happy night."

He stepped back, and, all covered with snow, the midnight intruder
entered and stood before him. And Sir Jasper Kingsland saw the
strangest-looking creature he had ever beheld in the whole course of
his life.




CHAPTER II.

ACHMET THE ASTROLOGER.

An old man, yet tall and upright, wearing a trailing cloak of dull
black, long gray hair flowing over the shoulders, and tight to the
scalp a skull-cap of black velvet. A patriarchal board, abundant and
silver-white, streamed down his breast, and out of a dull, white face,