"And--and--what was I going to say?--oh!--yes--if I can be of any use to you in procuring access to any house or place you wish to see, I shall be very happy. You are at present staying at my occasional quarters, the 'Plough.' I'm afraid you'll think me very impertinent and intrusive; but I should like to be able to mention your name to some of my friends, who don't usually allow strangers to see their places." This was more like American than English politeness; but the Baronet was determined to know all about the stranger, commencing with his name, and the laws of good breeding, though he knew them very well, were not likely to stand long in his way when he had made up his mind to accomplish an object. "My name is Guy Strangways," said the stranger. "O--ho--it's very odd!" exclaimed the Baronet, in a sharp snarl, quite unlike his previous talk. I think the distance between them was a little increased, and he was looking askance upon the young gentleman, who made him a very low foreign bow. There was a silence, and just then a deep metallic voice from below called, "Guy--hollo!" "Excuse me--just a moment," and the young man was gone. The Baronet waited. "He'll be back," muttered Sir Jekyl, "in a minute." But the Baronet was mistaken. He waited at that open window, whistling out upon the deepening twilight, till the edges of the ivy began to glitter in the moonbeams, and the bats to trace their zigzags in the air; and at last he gave over expecting. He looked back into the gloomy void of that great chamber, and listened, and felt rather angry at his queer sensations. He had not turned about when the stranger withdrew, and did not know the process of his vanishing, and for the first time it struck him, "who the plague could the fellow who _called_ him be?" On the whole he wished himself away, and he lighted a cigar for the sake of its vulgar associations, and made his way out of the ruins, and swiftly through darkened fields toward the Old London Road; and was more comfortable than he cared to say, when he stepped through the porch into the open hall of the "Plough," and stopped before the light at the bar, to ask his hostess once more, quite in his old way, whether Mr. Strangways had returned. "No, not yet; always uncertain; his dinner mostly overdone." "Has he a friend with him?" "Yes, sir, sure." "And what is he like?" "Older man, Sir Jekyl, a long way than young Mr. Guy Strangways; some relation I do think." "When do they leave you?" "To-morrow evening, with a chaise and pair for Aukworth." "Aukworth? why, that's another of my properties!--ha, ha, ha, by Jove! Does he know the Abbey here is mine?" "I rayther think not, Sir Jekyl. Would you please to wish dinner?" "To be sure, you dear little quiz, dinner by all means; and let them get my horses to in half-an-hour; and if Mr. Strangways should return before I go, I'd like to see him, and don't fail to let me know--do ye see?"