The stranger entered the kitchen and pulled out a chair from the table.

“Give me something to eat and drink—­the best you have, and be quick about it, too.”

Sallie paused, carving-knife in hand, looking at him with frank curiosity.  “Well, I snum!  You ain’t the new minister either, now, are you?”

The stranger made no answer.  He had thrown himself into the chair, as if tired.  Suddenly he sat up and looked around alertly, then at Sallie, who was returning his gaze with interest.

“Where are you from, anyway?” she inquired.  “We don’t see people like you around these parts very often.”

“I dare say,” he snarled.  “Are you going to get me a meal, or must I tramp over these confounded hills all day before I can eat?”

“Oh, I’ll get you up a bite, if that’s all you want.  I never turned anybody away hungry from this door yet, and we’ve had many a worse looking tramp than you.  I guess Miss Redmond won’t mind.”

“Miss Redmond!” The stranger started to his feet, glowering on Sallie.  “Look here!  Is this place a hotel, or isn’t it?”

“Well, anybody’d think it was, the way I’ve been driven from pillar to post for the last ten days!  But you can stay; I’ll get you a meal, and a good one, too.”

Sallie’s good nature was rewarded by a convulsion of anger on the part of the guest.  “Fool!  Idiot!” he screamed.  “You trick me in here!  You lie to me!”

“Oh, set down, set down!” interrupted Sallie.  “You don’t need to get so het up as all that!  I’ll get you something to eat.  There ain’t any hotel within five miles of here—­and a poor one at that!” Thus protesting and attempting to soothe, Sallie saw the stranger make a grab for his hat and start for the door, only to find it suddenly shut and locked in his face.  Mr. Chamberlain, moreover, was on the inside, facing the foreigner.

“If you will step through the house and go out the other way,” Mr. Chamberlain remarked coolly, “it will oblige me.  My horse is loose in the yard, and I’m afraid you’ll scare him off.  He’s shy with strangers.”

The two men measured glances.

“I thought you traveled afoot when pursuing your real estate business,” sneered the stranger.

“I do, when it suits my purposes,” replied Chamberlain.

“What game are you up to, anyway, in this disgusting country?” inquired the other.

“Ridding it of rascals.  This way, please;” and Chamberlain pointed before him toward the door leading into the hall.  As the stranger turned, his glance fell on Sallie, still carving her veal loaf.  “Idiot!” he said disgustedly.

“Well, I haven’t been caught yet, anyhow,” said Sallie grimly.

Chamberlain’s voice interrupted her.  “This way, and then the first door on the right.  Make haste, if you please, Monsieur Chatelard.”

At the name, the stranger turned, standing at bay, but Chamberlain was at his heels.  “You see, I know your name.  It was supplied me at the Reading-room.  Here—­on the right—­quickly!”