CHAPTER V

THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY In such rough and casual fashion Francis came to his Destiny. But to him there was little sign of aught momentous. The inn-kitchen was half-filled with men talking boisterously, while the landlord's deep tones gave directions to the serving-girl. The noise of soft south-country talk came pleasantly on his ears after the clip-clap of the Fife, and a wholesome smell of food and drink comforted his senses. He sat by himself in a corner, for he was in the mood to shun publicity. Supper was brough…