Then a servant appeared at the door, and bidding the dogs begone,
asked Paul to alight and enter, directing Baxter and the driver to the
court-yard in the rear.

The man-servant led Paul through a dark hall into a great
drawing-room. As he entered the room a woman laid down a book and
rose. She must in her time have been uncommonly beautiful, Paul
thought. She was beautiful even now, though her eyes were very tired
and her face when in repose was hard and set. Her hair would have at
once aroused suspicion that it was dyed, for it was lustrous and
brilliant as burnished copper. But the suspicion would have been
without justification, in the same way as would have been the notion
that the very pronounced colour on the woman's cheeks was artificial
too.

She seemed to hesitate a little, and just as Paul was about to crave
pardon for his unceremonious intrusion (the servant had merely opened
the door for him and he had entered unannounced) a man, dressed, like
Paul, in ordinary tweeds, stepped quickly out of the darkness into the
rays of the candelabra.

For a moment he gazed at Paul with curiosity without addressing him.
Paul saw a man with an olive face set with dark, almond-shaped eyes
beneath a pair of oblique and finely-pencilled brows; his nose was
aquiline and assertive, his mouth shrewd and mean and scarcely hidden
by a carefully-trained and very faintly-waxed moustache. He was
exceedingly tall and astonishingly spare in build.

"Ah, a traveller, I see," the Russian said at length in careful
English. "You are most welcome, I assure you, sir. We are delighted to
have your company. It is a pleasure which seldom comes to us in this
lonely spot. My name," he added, stretching out his hand to Paul, "is
Boris Ivanovitch, and this lady," turning to his companion, "is--my
sister."

Paul bowed to the red-haired woman.

"Aldringham is my name," he said, as he grasped the gentleman's
outstretched hand. He did not like the look in the heavy-lidded eyes
of his host, and some quick instinct prevented him from giving his own
name--so he fell back upon that of his mother's family.

And now a third occupant of the house entered--a tall young man of
the most unpleasant appearance.

"My cousin Michael," said Ivanovitch in an even voice, "Michael, this
is Mr. Aldringham, an English traveller."

The newcomer had very light blue eyes, closely set together, and a
large, red, hawk-like nose. His hands too were large and red, w