As she opened the door, her father was standing on the step, in the
driving rain, supporting in his arms the form of a gentleman, who
seemed to be almost in a state of insensibility.

"Make way! make way, Adèle. Here's a sick man. Throw some blankets on
the floor, and come, all hands, and rub him. My dear, order something
warm for him to drink".

Mrs. Dubois caught a pile of bedding from a neighboring closet and
arranged it upon the floor, near the fire. Mr. Dubois laid the
stranger down upon it. Mr. Norton immediately rose from the tea-table,
drew off the boots of the fainting man, and began to chafe his feet
with his warm, broad hand.

"Put a dash of cold water on his face, child", said he to Adèle, "and
he'll come to, in a minute". Adèle obeyed.

The stranger opened his eyes suddenly and looked around in
astonishment upon the group.

"Ah! yes. I see", he said, "I have been faint, or something of the
kind. I believe I am not quite well".

He attempted to rise, but sank back, powerless. He turned his head
slowly towards Mr. Dubois, and said, "Friend Dubois, I think I am
going to be ill, and must trust myself to your compassion", when
immediately his eyes closed and his countenance assumed the paleness
of death.

"Don't be down-hearted, Mr. Brown", said Mr. Dubois. "You are not used