Beyond the main building, on the west side, was the Gray Barn, easily to be distinguished both by its color and by the ecclesiastical character of the blocked-up windows, in some of which the tracery was still almost perfect. The roof, however, was now of thatch, well-grown with moss and grass, lichen and tufts of wallflower; and the swallows built their nests under the eaves. On this side of the house was the farmyard, surrounded by a high sandstone wall; and the space between the big barn and the dwelling was filled up by outbuildings, most of which were in a ruinous condition. It was when they rode up to the common entrance of the farmhouse, which was on the east side of the house, that the visitors came to the most interesting and ancient part of the building. All this portion was built of sandstone, mellow with age and weather. And a huge, massive porch, with a small lodge on one side and a room above, formed a fitting entrance to what was now the farmhouse kitchen, but which had been, in old times, the hall of the mansion. The door was open; and when the brigadier and his young companion had dismounted from their horses and stood inside the porch, they had full opportunity to note the details of one of the most picturesque scenes it was possible to find, while the great bell clanged, and an old woman came slowly forward to receive them. Anything more peaceful, more homely, more utterly irreconcilable with the notion of lawlessness and nefarious deeds than the room and its occupants presented it was impossible to imagine. At one end of the vast apartment, which was some forty feet long, and broad and lofty in proportion, a fire was built up on the iron dogs in the great open fireplace; and an iron pot hanging from a crane in the chimney, gave forth a savory smell. Close by the fire, crouching in the warmest corner of the oak settle, with her back to the light, sat a woman who never turned at the visitors’ approach. On the opposite side of the hearth, but well in the corner of the room, another woman, large-boned and gaunt, with gray hair half-hidden by a large mob-cap, sat busy with her spinning-wheel. On his knees before the fire, with a mongrel dog on each side of him, was a withered and bent old man. These, and the old woman who came to the door to speak with the strangers, were all the occupants of the huge apartment. Some other details Tregenna took in, such as the extreme cleanliness of the uneven red-tiled floor, of the long deal table at the north end of the room, of the yellow-washed, rough walls. He noted the brown-and-red earthenware vessels on the tall oak dresser, the hams and bunches of herbs dangling from dark beams above. The next moment he was saluting the old dame, in answer to her respectful curtsey.