Was he, then, to know who this man was--his name and history?
Was the story of his life now to be told?
Charley broke the silence.

"Tell the girl to come in." Instantly afterwards the postmaster's daughter entered.

The look of the girl's face, at once delicate and rosy with health, almost put the question of the letter out of his mind for an instant.

Her dark eyes met his as he came forward with outstretched hand.
"This is addressed, as you will see, 'To the Sick Man at the House of Jo Portugais, at Vadrome Mountain.' Are you that person, Monsieur ?" she asked.
As she handed the parcel, Charley's eyes scanned her face quickly.

How did this habitant girl come by this perfect French accent, this refined manner?
He did not know the handwriting on the parcel; he hastily tore it open.