e at Pulwick had not been mentioned to "the master."

And as Mr. Landale was quite determined to avail himself of his
brother's _sauvagerie_ not to let him know anything about us, on his
side, but for me we might have remained at and departed from Pulwick
unknown to the head of the house! And what a pity that would have
been!

Now, _why_ did not Mr. Landale wish his brother to know? Did he think
(as indeed has happened) that the Light-keeper would take too kindly
to the Savenaye children? Or to one of them? If so, he will be _bien
attrappe_, for there is no doubt that my sudden and dramatic arrival
upon his especial domain has made an impression on him that no meeting
prepared and discussed beforehand could have produced.

Adrian Landale may have been in love with our beautiful mamma in his
boyish days, but now, Sir Adrian, the _man_ is in love with the
beautiful Molly!

That is positive.

I was a long time before I could go to sleep in the tower; it was too
perfect to be in bed in such a place, safe and happy in the midst of
the rage I could hear outside; to have seen the unknown, to have found
him such as he is--to be under _the Light_!

What would have happened if my cousin had really been mad (and Rene
his keeper, as that stupid country-side wit suggested in my ear the
other night at dinner)? It would have been still more of an adventure
of course, but not one which even "Murthering Moll the Second" can
regret. Or if he had been a dirty, untidy hermit, as Madeleine
thought? That would have spoilt all.

Thus in the owl's nest, as Mr. Landale (spiteful creature!) called it
to Tanty, there lives not owl any more than lunatic. A polished
gentleman, with white, exquisite hands, who, when he is discovered by
the most unexpected of visitors, is shaven as smooth as Rupert
himself; has the most unexceptionable of snowy linen and
old-fashioned, it is true, but most well-fitting clothes.

As for the entertainment for the said casual visitor, not even Pulwick
with all its resources (where housekeeping, between the fussy brother
and the docile sister is a complicated science) could have produced
more real comfort.

In the morning, when I woke late (it was broad daylight), feeling as
if I had been beaten and passed through a mangle, for there was not an
inch of my poor body that was not sore, I had not turned round and so
given sign of life, before I heard a whisper outside my door; then
comes a sturdy knock and in wa