Page:A fool in spots (IA foolinspots00riveiala).pdf/187

 in suddenly grand echoes; then, with a whirling, hissing rush of rain, the unbound storm burst forth, alive and furious. After an hour there was a temporary lull, the wind no longer surged with violence, rain fell at intervals, a sullen mist obscured earth and heaven.

Robert was preparing to confront the weather when there came a loud knock on the door. Throwing it wide open there stood, in bold relief against the back-ground of dense fog, a sturdy, seafaring figure, dripping like a water dog. Rain was running in little rivers from his soft slouched hat, his weather-beaten face glowing like a hot coal, the only bit of color in this neutral-tinted picture.

"Come inside, the sight of a fire on such a day as this won't hurt you," said Robert, cheerily, motioning his visitor toward the kitchen where a warm fire blazed.

"Much obliged to you, sir," returned the intruder, stepping onto the door-mat, and shaking the rain from his hat.

"Another time I'll come in," and once more shaking the rain from his dripping garments he fumbled for something in the farthest end of his capacious pockets.

"Here's a note—they'll be waiting at the station for you, sir." These words followed in the uncon