CHAPTER VI.
A LEGACY OF LOVE.
As I approached the broad deep doorway of my house I saw a tall man muffled up, standing half concealed in the shadow of one of the pillars.
"Who are you, and what are you doing there?" I asked peremptorily, stopping and looking at him.
"What should I be doing, but waiting for Lieutenant Petrovitch?" answered the fellow, stepping forward.
"Well, I am Lieutenant Petrovitch. What do you want?"
"You are not the lieutenant."
"Then you are not looking for Lieutenant Petrovitch," I returned, as I opened my door. "Be off with you." I spoke firmly, but his reply had rather disconcerted me.
Instead of going he advanced toward me when he saw me open the door, and shot a glance of surprise at me.
"I beg you honour's pardon. I didn't recognise you; and when you pretended not to know me, I thought it was someone else. You've disguised yourself by that change in your face, sir."