When Sir Jekyl beheld this particularly handsome young man, it was with a disagreeable shock, like the tap on a big drum, upon his diaphragm. If anyone had been there he would have witnessed an odd and grizzly change in the pleasant Baronet's countenance. For a few seconds he did not move. Then he drew back a pace or two, and stood at the further side of the fire, with the mantelpiece partially between him and the young gentleman who spoke his parting directions, all unconscious of the haggard stare which made Sir Jekyl look a great deal less young and good-natured than was his wont. This handsome young stranger, smiling, signalled with his cane, as it seemed, to a companion, who had preceded him, and ran in pursuit. For a time Sir Jekyl did not move a muscle, and then, with a sudden pound on the chimneypiece, and a great oath, he exclaimed-- "I could not have believed it! What the devil can it mean?" Then the Baronet bethought him--"What confounded stuff one does talk and think, sometimes! Half the matter dropt out of my mind. Twenty years ago, by Jove, too. _More_ than that, egad! How could I be such an ass?" And he countermarched, and twirled on his heel into his old place, with his back to the fire, and chuckled and asked again-- "How the plague _could_ I be such a fool?" And after some more of this sort of catechism he began to ruminate oddly once more, and, said he-- "It's plaguy _odd_, for all that." And he walked to the window, and, with his face close to the glass, tried in vain to see the stranger again. The bow-window did not command the road far enough to enable him to see any distance; and he stuck his hat on his head, and marched by the bar, through the porch, and, standing upon the road itself, looked shrewdly in the same direction. But the road makes a bend about there, and between the hedgerows of that wooded country the vista was not far. With a cheerful air of carelessness, Sir Jekyl returned and tapped on the bar window. "I say, Mrs. Jones, who's that good-looking young fellow that went out just now?" "The gentleman in the low-crowned hat, sir, with the gold-headed cane, please?" "Yes, a tall young fellow, with large dark eyes, and brown hair." "That will be Mr. Strangers, Sir Jekyl." "Does he sleep here to-night?" "Yes, sir, please." "And what's his business?" "Oh, dear! No business, Sir Jekyl, please. He's a real gentleman, and no end of money." "I mean, how does he amuse himself?" "A looking after prospects, and old places, and such like, Sir Jekyl. Sometimes riding and sometimes a fly. Every day some place or other." "Oh! pencils and paint-boxes--eh?" "I aven't seen none, sir. I can't say how that will be." "Well, and what is he about; where is he gone; where is he now?" demanded the Baronet. "What way did Mr. Strangers go, Bill, just now?" the lady demanded of boots, who appeared at the moment. "The Abbey, ma'am." "The Abbey, please, Sir Jekyl."