Cosmopolitan that I am, yet I am not prone to accept the invitations of strangers. Nevertheless this man was not altogether a stranger, for was he not a member of my own club? Truth to tell, I had become bored by the deadly dullness of country hotels, therefore I was glad enough to accept his proffered hospitality and spend a pleasant evening. "Very well," he said. "I'll send a wire to my housekeeper, and I'll pilot you in your car to my place this evening. We'll start at seven, and dine at eight--if that will suit you?" And so it was arranged. Bennett had the whole of the day to go through the car and do one or two necessary repairs, while Sandford and myself idled about the town. My companion struck me as an exceedingly pleasant fellow, who, having travelled very extensively, now preferred a quiet existence in the country, with a little hunting and a little shooting in due season, to the dinners, theatres, and fevered haste of London life. The evening proved a very dark one with threatening rain as we turned out of the yard of "The Cups," Sandford and I seated behind. My friend directed Bennett from time to time, and soon we found ourselves out on the Sudbury road. We passed through a little place which I knew to be Heyland, and then turned off to the right, across what seemed to be a wide stretch of bleak, open country. Over the heath we went, our head-lights glaring far before us, for about two miles when my friend called to Bennett: "Turn to the left at the cross-roads." And a few moments later we were travelling rather cautiously up a rough by-road, at the end of which we came to a long, old-fashioned house--a farm-house evidently, transformed into a residence. The door was opened by a middle-aged, red-faced man-servant, and as I stepped within the small hall hung with foxes' masks, brushes, and other trophies, my friend wished me a hearty welcome to his home. The dining-room proved to be an old-fashioned apartment panelled from floor to ceiling. The table, set for two, bore a fine old silver candelabra, a quantity of antique plate, and, adorned with flowers, was evidently the table of a man who was comfortably off. We threw off our heavy coats and made ourselves cosy beside the fire when the servant, whom my host addressed as Henry, brought in the soup. Therefore we went to the table and commenced. The meal proved a well-cooked and well-chosen one, and I congratulated him upon his cook. "I'm forty, and for twenty years I was constantly on the move," he remarked, with a laugh. "Nowadays I'm glad to be able to settle down in England." A moment later I heard the sound of a car leaving the house. "Is that my car?" I asked, rather surprised. "Probably your man is taking it round to the back in order to put it under cover. Hark! it has started to rain." To me, however, the sound, growing fainter, was very much as though Bennett had driven the car away.