appearance, with deep-set, mysterious eyes, and flowing white
moustache and hair. The top of his head was lightly bound in a turban
of some flimsy material, and a loose robe of crimson silk hung from
his shoulders, gathered together with a cord about the waist. As he
advanced Henley observed that the bones of his cheeks were high and
prominent, and the eyes buried so deep beneath their projecting brows
and skull, that he was at a loss to account for the strange sense of
power which he felt to be lodged in so small a space.

"This is Ah Ben, Mr. Henley, of whom I have spoken," said Dorothy,
rising.

The old man extended his hand and bowed most courteously. He hoped
that they had had a pleasant drive from the station, and then took
his seat beside the fire.

Paul was dumfounded. Probably he was expected to know all about the
man, and he had only just decided that he had been dead for a
century. How could he so have misinterpreted what he had heard?

Ah Ben stretched his long bony fingers to the fire, and observed that
the nights were beginning to grow quite cold.

"Yes," said Henley, "I had hardly expected to find the season so far
advanced in your Southern home."

"Our altitude more than amends for our latitude," answered the old
man; and then, taking a pair of massive tongs from the corner of the
mantel, he stirred the balsam logs into a fierce blaze, starting a
myriad of sparks in their flight up the chimney. Dorothy was looking