“Let us hurry on,” Lois urged.  “I am afraid that I am somewhat upset to-night.  I had such a start on my way to the Haven that I have not got over it yet.”

“I saw that there was something wrong with you when you came into the house,” Jasper replied.

“Did you?  I was hoping that no one noticed it.”

“What was the matter?”

“It was a man.”

“Oh, was that all?  I thought that perhaps it was a bear.”

“But a man can be far worse than a bear, Mr. Randall.  I would not mind meeting a bear half as much as a brute in the form of a man.”

“What, did he frighten you, or try to harm you in any way?” Jasper stopped short in his tracks and waited for an answer.  He was beginning to understand now that Lois’ fright was something not to be treated lightly.

“Oh, no,” Lois hastened to explain.  “He didn’t even speak to me.  But I saw him cross the brightly-lighted lane leading to the Haven.  He plunged among the trees and disappeared.”

“Did you know him?” Jasper asked, now much interested.

“Yes.  I met him once in the city at Mrs. Dingle’s party.  He is an English artist, Sydney Bramshaw by name, and he affected me then like a terrible night-mare.  I could not get him out of my mind for weeks.  I have never been able to explain it, and never experienced anything like it before.”

“Do you know anything about the man?” Jasper asked.

“No, and that is the strange thing about it.  I had a slight conversation with him then and his words disgusted me.  Apart from that I know nothing.”

“It is strange,” Jasper mused as if to himself.  “We sometimes do get queer impressions about people, do we not?”

“But I never had anything like this before.  It seemed to me when I first saw that man that he was Satan in disguise.  A queer idea, was it not?  I felt that in some unaccountable way he had crossed my path for evil, and I have that same feeling now.”

They had reached the house by this time and were standing near the verandah steps.  It was a chilly night, and the sky was overcast with not a star to be seen.  A tremor shook Lois’ form as she stood there.

“You are cold,” Jasper remarked, “and you should go in the house at once.”

“Will you come in?” Lois asked.  “It is not late and father will be pleased to see you.”

“Not to-night, thank you,” Jasper replied.  “I was working nearly all last night at the Haven, and so must get some rest.  I am living in my little old cabin now, and it is really good to be there again.  It seems more like home to me than up the brook.  But, there, I must not keep you any longer or you will catch cold.  Do not worry too much about that man.  If he begins to trouble you, he will have to reckon with me.”

Jasper walked slowly away from the house along a path leading to the main road.  He was thinking seriously of what Lois had told him about Bramshaw.  He could not understand her strange aversion for the man, and he wondered if there were really anything in such a presentiment.  He made up his mind that he would be on the lookout and if the fellow became the least objectionable he would deal with him then in no gentle manner.