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ROSALIE, CHARLEY, AND THE MAN THE WIDOW PLOMONDON JILTED.
From the moment there came to the post-office the letter addressed to "The Sick Man at the House of Jo Portugais at Vadrome Mountain," Rosalie Evanturel dreamed dreams.

Mystery, so fascinating a thing in all the experiences of life, took hold of her.

The strange man in the lonely hut on the hill, the bandaged head, the keen, piercing blue eyes, the monocle, like a masked battery of the mind, levelled at her--all appealed to that life she lived apart from the people with whom she had daily commerce.

Her world was a world of books and dreams, and simple, practical duties of life.