CHAPTER III


It seemed to the two women, brief though the period of actual
silence was, that in those few seconds they jointly conceived
definite and lasting impressions of the man who was to become,
during the next few weeks, an object of the deepest concern to
both of them. The intruder was slightly built, of little more than
medium height, of dark complexion, with an almost imperceptible
moustache of military pattern, black hair dishevelled with the
wind, and eyes of almost peculiar brightness. He carried himself
with an assurance which was somewhat remarkable considering the
condition of his torn and mud stained clothes, the very quality
of which was almost undistinguishable. They both, curiously enough,
formed the same instinctive conviction that, notwithstanding his
tramplike appearance and his burglarious entrance, this was not a
person to be greatly feared.

The stranger brushed aside Philippa's incoherent exclamation and
opened the conversation with some ceremony.

"Ladies," he began, with a low bow, "in the first place let me
offer my most profound apologies for this unusual form of entrance
to your house."

Philippa rose from her easy-chair and confronted him. The firelight
played upon her red-gold hair, and surprise had driven the weariness
from her face. Against the black oak of the chimneypiece she had