Fate, however, was kinder to him than he had dared to hope. As Natalie
was returning home, he ventured to draw a little nearer to her, but
still with the greatest caution, for he would have been overcome with
shame if she had detected him dogging her footsteps in this aimless, if
innocent manner. And now that she had got close to her own door, he had
drawn nearer still--on the other side of the street; he so longed to
catch one more glimpse of the dark eyes smiling, and the mobile, proud
mouth. But just as the door was being opened from within, a man who had
evidently been watching his chance thrust himself before the two women,
barring their way, and proceeded to address Natalie in a vehement,
gesticulating fashion, with much clinching of his fists and throwing out
of his arms. Anneli had shrunk back a step, for the man was uncouth and
unkempt; but the young mistress stood erect and firm, confronting the
beggar, or madman, or whoever he was, without the slightest sign of
fear.

This was enough for George Brand. He was not thrusting himself unfairly
on her seclusion if he interposed to protect her from menace. Instantly
he crossed the road.

"Who are you? What do you want?" This was what he said; but what he did
was to drive the man back a couple of yards.

A hand was laid on his arm quickly.

"He is in trouble," Natalie said, calmly. "He wants to see papa; he has
come a long way; he does not understand that papa is in America. If you
could only convince him--But you do not talk Russian."

"I can talk English," said Brand, regarding the maniac-looking person