The butler, who had recovered himself, and now believed he had to do with a crank or some person under the influence of liquor, again barred the way. Trying to push the unwelcome visitor out, he said soothingly:
"Come now, my good man, you've made a mistake. You don't live here."
Struck almost speechless with amazement at the brazen impudence of one whom he had always regarded as a model servant, Kenneth turned round as if about to make a wrathful outburst. As he turned, the light from the open door fell full on his face and now for the first time Roberts saw the visitor's features. With a startled exclamation the man fell backward. For a moment he was so surprised that he could not speak. Then, in an awe-stricken whisper, he cried:
"Who are you?"
For a moment Kenneth thought the man had suddenly become insane. For his own servant not to know him was too ridiculous. At that moment he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror of the hat stand. Ah, now he understood. The beard and emaciated face had made quite a difference—no wonder the man failed to recognize him. Breaking into laughter he exclaimed:
"No wonder you didn't recognize me, Roberts. I have changed a little, haven't I? I've grown a beard since I saw you last and been through a regular mill. But you know me now don't you—I'm your long lost master."
The servant shook his head. Still closely scrutinizing Kenneth's face as if greatly puzzled, he said:
"You're not my master, sir. Mr. Kenneth Traynor left the house some ten minutes before you arrived."
Kenneth stared at the man as if he thought he had gone clean out of his mind.
"I went out ten minutes before I arrived," he echoed. "What kind of nonsense is that, Roberts?"