rather."

"Suppose I do not wish to go to either place? What then?"

Margot stared. "Not--wish--to go--to your own dear--home?"

The stranger smiled at the amazement of her face.

"Maybe not. Especially as I don't know how I would be received there.
What if I was foolish and didn't know when I was well off? What if I
ran away, meaning to stay away forever?"

"Well, if it hadn't been for the rocks, and me, it would have been
forever. But God made the rocks and gave them to you for a shelter;
and He made me, and sent me out on the lake so you should see me and
be found. If He wants you to go back to that home He'll find a way.
Now, it's queer. Here we've been talking ever so long yet I don't know
who you are. You know all of us: Uncle Hugh Dutton, Angelique Ricord,
and me. I'm Margot Romeyn. What is your name?"

"Mine? Oh! I'm Adrian Wadislaw. A good-for-nought, some people say.
Young Wadislaw, the sinner, son of old Wadislaw, the saint."

The answer was given recklessly, while the dark young face grew sadly
bitter and defiant.

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,
his 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. "Adri