. The interior of a small,
poorly-furnished apartment met his gaze. Beside the glowing embers of
a wood fire in a box stove crouched a human figure, seemingly the only
occupant of the lone log cabin.

There was a wealth of golden hair flashing in the firelight, and the
black robe covered the form of what seemed to be a beautiful woman.

As may be supposed, the detective was surprised at the sight. After a
moment of reflection he resolved to enter the cabin.

Striding to the door, he rapped gently. No answer came, and the
detective rapped again. This time the door was cautiously opened, and
a white face peered out.

"Who's there?"

"A traveler who has lost his way."

"You cannot come in. Sibyl isn't afraid, but she wishes to be alone."

Nevertheless, the woman stood aside and held the door wide. This
seemed invitation enough, and the detective at once crossed the floor,
and pushed to the door at his back.

The female receded before him, and stood at the far side of the room,
with both hands extended, waving them gently up and down.

"Come no nearer, sir; Sibyl would view you from afar. There, stand
where you are, and do not move. It may be that you are the one I have
been looking for all these years."

The speaker was evidently young, and possessed a weirdly beautiful
face, that strangely attracted Dyke Darrel. He stood still and watched
her singular movements curiously.

She drew a morocco case from her bosom, opened it, and gazed at
something, evidently a picture, long and earnestly. She seemed to be
comparing the face of the picture with that of her visitor.

Dyke Darrel was puzzled, and somewhat pleased.

"No, you are not my Hubert; he was a nobler looking gentleman by far."

"Will you permit me to look at the picture, Miss--"

"No, no; I dare not trust it out of my hands. I promised him, you
know, and I must not disappoint Hubert, for he is very exacting.
Hark!"

The girl secreted her prize, and lifted a warning hand.

"Don't you hear his step? It is Hubert--dear, dear Hubert--come back
to comfort his poor Sybil after these long, weary years."

A low, startling laugh fell from her lips at the last. She darted
across the floor, and flung the door wide, peering out into the
darkness.

A solemn, awful silence followed, then the door was sharply closed,
and the queerly acting girl faced Dyke Darrel once more. She looked
weirdly beautiful, with a mass of golden hair falling below her taper
waist,