UNMASKED

As Jean rose and opened the door a man at once entered, who stared at
her in amazement. He was of medium size, clad in a short fur jacket,
belted at the waist, heavy cap, rough homespun trousers, stuck into
coarse socks, and moccasins on his feet. His face was covered with a
ragged, bushy beard, flecked with frost, while particles of ice clung
to his moustache. His small piercing eyes attracted Jean most of all,
causing her to retreat a step or two. This the visitor noted, and
laughed.

"I won't hurt ye, Miss," he said. "But, Lord! where have you dropped
from? I didn't know there was a wench like you on this side of hell."

"Hold your tongue, Dave, and come over here," the man on the couch
ordered.

The visitor at once obeyed, and crossed the room. He looked upon the
invalid with surprise.

"Hello! what's wrong with you?" he asked.

"Oh, I met with an accident. But what are you doing here, Dave? What
do you want?"

Dave, however, made no reply, but turned and stared hard at Jean who
was now standing near the table.

"Did you hear what I said, Dave? What do you want?"