He had been led to believe that Ah Ben was a living member of the

household, who would shortly appear, but this now seemed impossible,

for these extraordinary pictures were as old as the house itself.

What did the girl mean? Had this Ah Ben done them all? Should he ask

her and expose his ignorance? Paul thought he would venture upon a

compromise.

"And are these pictures as old as they appear?"

"Quite," answered the girl. "As you can see for yourself, the house

and all that is in it date from quite a remote time, and many of the

portraits were painted before the house was ever begun."

That seemed to settle the question. Ah Ben was evidently a deceased

ancestor; possibly a friend of the family in the distant past, and

Henley concluded that he had misunderstood the girl in her former

allusion to the man.

Dorothy had not taken off her hat, nor did she seem to have the

slightest intention of doing so; meanwhile Paul's appetite, which had

been temporarily lulled by his novel surroundings, was beginning to

assert itself, and as there was no prospect of an attendant to

conduct him to his room, he was about to ask where he might find a

bowl of water to relieve himself of some of the stains of travel.

Before he had finished the sentence, however, his attention was

arrested by the sound of a distant footstep. He listened; it came

nearer, and in a minute was descending the black staircase in the

corner. Paul watched, and saw the figure of an old man as it turned

an angle in the stairs. Then it stopped, and coughed lightly as if to

announce its approach.

"Come," cried Dorothy, "it's only Mr. Henley, and I'm sure he'll be

glad to see you."

The figure advanced, and when it had descended far enough to be in

range with the fire and lamplight, Paul saw a most extraordinary

person. The man, although very old, was tall and dignified in

appearance, with deep-set, mysterious eyes, and flowing white

moustache and hair. The top of his head was lightly bound in a turban

of some flimsy material, and a loose robe of crimson silk hung from

his shoulders, gathered together with a cord about the waist. As he

advanced Henley observed that the bones of his cheeks were high and

prominent, and the eyes buried so deep beneath their projecting brows

and skull, that he was at a loss to account for the strange sense of

power which he felt to be lodged in so small a space.




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