After a moment, something startled Margot from the shocked surprise with which she had heard this harsh reply. It was a sigh, almost a groan, as from one who had been more deeply startled even than herself. Turning, she saw the master standing in the doorway, staring at their visitor as if he had seen a ghost, and nearly as white as one himself. CHAPTER V IN ALADDIN LAND It seemed to Margot, watching, that it was an endless time her uncle stood there gazing with that startled look upon their guest. In reality it was but a moment. Then he passed his hand over his eyes, as one who would brush away a mist, and came forward. He was still unduly pale, but he spoke in a courteous, almost natural manner, and quietly accepted the chair Margot hastened to bring him. “You are getting rested, Mr.--” “Oh! please don’t ‘Mister’ me, sir. You’ve been so good to me, and I’m not used to the title. Though, in my scratches and wood dirt, this young lady did take me for an old fellow. Yes, thanks to her thoughtfulness, I’ve found myself again, and I’m just Adrian, if you’ll be so kind.” There was something very winning in this address, and it suited the elder man well. The stranger was scarcely out of boyhood, and reminded the old collegian of other lads whom he had known and loved. Wadislaw was not a particularly pleasing name that one should dwell upon it, unless necessary. Adrian was better and far more common. Neither did it follow that this person was of a family he remembered too well; and so Mr. Dutton reassured himself. In any case, the youth was now “the stranger within the gates,” and therefore entitled to the best. “Adrian, then. We are a simple household, following the old habit of early to bed and to rise. You must be tired enough to sleep anywhere, and there is another big lounge in my study. You would best occupy it to-night, and to-morrow Angelique will fix you better quarters. Few guests favor us in our far-away home,” he finished, with a smile that was full of hospitality. Adrian rose at once, and, bidding Margot and Angelique good-night, followed his host into a big room which, save for the log walls, might have been the library of some city home. It was a room which somehow gave him the impression of vastness, liberality, and freedom--an inclosed bit of the outside forest. Like each of the other apartments he had seen, it had its great fireplace and its blazing logs, not at all uncomfortable now in the chill that had come after the storm. But he was too worn out to notice much more than these details, and, without undressing, dropped upon the lounge and drew the Indian blanket over him. His head rested upon great pillows stuffed with fragrant spruce needles, and this perfume of the woods soothed him into instant sleep.