ord opened the door. It led into a desolate inclosure, half garden,
half yard. Some nets stretched on poles were hanging up to dry. No other
objects were visible--not a living creature appeared in the place. "It
doesn't look very inviting, my dear," said Mrs. Crayford. "I am at your
service, however. What do you say?"

She offered her arm to Clara as she spoke. Clara refused it. She took
Crayford's arm, and clung to him.

"I'm frightened, dreadfully frightened!" she said to him, faintly. "You
keep with me--a woman is no protection; I want to be with you." She
looked round again at the boat-house doorway. "Oh!" she whispered, "I'm
cold all over--I'm frozen with fear of this place. Come into the yard!
Come into the yard!"

"Leave her to me," said Crayford to his wife. "I will call you, if she
doesn't get better in the open air."

He took her out at once, and closed the yard door behind them.

"Mr. Steventon, do you understand this?" asked Mrs. Crayford. "What can
she possibly be frightened of?"

She put the question, still looking mechanically at the door by which
her husband and Clara had gone out. Receiving no reply, she glanced
round at Steventon. He was standing on the opposite side of the
luncheon-table, with his eyes fixed attentively on the view from the
main doorway of the boat-house. Mrs. Crayford looked where Steventon was
looking. This time there was something visible. She saw the shadow of a
human figure projected on the stretch of smooth yellow sand in front of
the boat-house.

In a moment more the figure appeared. A man came slowly into view, and
stopped on the threshold of the door.

Chapter 18.

The man was a sinister and terrible object to look at. His eyes glared
like the eyes of a wild animal; his head was bare; his long gray hair
was torn and tangled; his miserable garments hung about him in rags. He
stood in the doorway, a speechless figure of misery and want, staring at
the well-spread table like a hungry dog.

Steventon spoke to him.

"Who are you?"

He answered, in a hoarse, hollow voice,

"A starving man."

He advanced a few steps, slowly and painfully, as if he were sinking
under fatigue.

"Throw me some bones from the table," he said. "Give me my share along
with the dogs."

There was madness as well as hunger in his eyes while he spoke those
words. Steventon placed Mrs. Crayford behind him, so that he might be
easily able to protect her in case of need, and beckoned