She looked at him doubtfully, but her face cleared in a moment. Robert's
frank, open gaze invited everybody's confidence.

"Come into the hall, sir," she said, and then led the way from the hall
into a large room opening upon a lawn, well-shaded by many fine, large
trees. Elihu Strong sat in a chair before one of the windows, and his
wounded leg, swathed heavily, reposed in another chair.

Robert paused, and his heart beat rather hard. This was the first friend
of his old life that he had seen. Now, he was coming in reality back to
his world. He stood a few moments, irresolute, and then advancing
lightly he said:

"Good morning, Colonel Strong!"

The wounded man wheeled in his chair and looked at him, inquiry in his
face. Robert did not know what changes his life on the island had made
in his appearance, his expression rather, but he saw that Colonel Strong
did not know him, and it pleased him to play for a minute or so with the
fact.

"You did not receive this bullet, sir, when you saved us from St. Luc,"
he said. "It must have been much later, but I know it was a bad moment
for the Province of Massachusetts when the hostile lead struck you."

Colonel Strong stared.

"Who are you?" he exclaimed.