Perhaps there was something of a dream to him in the presence of a fairylike young creature who had blown in with the storm and slept upon his sheltering hearth. Perhaps there was an enchantment to him in the exquisite young face across the table, the shy, soft eyes, the delicate pale contours.
Into their absorption came a shattering knock upon the door. Instantly the nightmare was upon Maria Angelina. She was tense, her eyes wide, her lips parted. And as the knock was repeated, one hand, wide-fingered in fright, was raised as if to ward off some palpable blow.
"Oh, let me hide," she breathed across the table into Barry Elder's ears.
Fortunately the latch was on the door.
"Who's there?" said Barry Elder raising his voice to cover her reiterated whisper. In negation he gestured her to silence.
"Hello, hello there, I say!"
It was the voice of Johnny Byrd and Maria Angelina half rose from her chair and clutched Barry Elder's arm as he moved towards the summons.
"Do not let him in," she gasped. "That is the man—last night——"
The dog's barking was drowning her words. Johnny called again.
"Anybody in? Here you wake up—anybody here?"