For the rest of the journey coachman and passenger exchanged gossip on their common acquaintances. William Nokes alighted at the Queen’s Head, at Winton St. Mary, and shook his head in sympathy with Mistress Joplady when he saw the two inside passengers descend from the coach and enter the inn. "One a furrener, t’other a lawyer!" he muttered. "Ah! what tarrible things some poor souls ha’ got to putt up wi’!" Mistress Joplady, however, welcomed both her guests with her wonted heartiness, and with her own hands plied the warming-pan for their beds. At ten o’clock next morning the two strangers left the inn together. One of them carried a small portfolio. They went through the village, across the common, and, entering the park gates of Winton Hall, walked up the long drive to the porch and asked whether Mr. Berkeley was at home. After a few minutes’ delay they were invited to step in, and conducted to a little room in the turret, where they found the squire in cassock and skull-cap, warming his withered hands at the fire. "Mr. Berkeley?" said the elder of the two. "That is my name. What is your business?" "My name, sir, Jan Grootz. My friend Mr. Swettenham Tape, of Lincoln’s Inn." "Well?" "You will permit me to take a chair; dank you! And my friend Mr. Tape; dank you!" At the mention of his name, Mr. Berkeley flashed a shrewd glance under his bushy white eyebrows at the Dutchman, then gripped the arms of his chair, and waited. "Mr. Berkeley, my business will not hold you long. You will pardon if I begin at de beginning and tell you a little history?" The squire kept his eyes fixed on his visitor, but said nothing. Taking his silence as permission to proceed, Grootz settled himself in his chair, with his plump right hand ready to punctuate his sentences. "Dis history dat I tell you, sir, I hope you will find it interesting. It is ver much about yourself; you are old man, but of dose old men, pardon me, who regard demselves as de most interesting subjeck in de world; zo! De history begin long ago; zixty-vive year indeed, when your shadow first zink over dis place." Grootz’s hand made a comprehensive sweep. "You were den Nicolas Heller, an eleven-year boy; your moder, a widow, she had married Mr. John Berkeley, a widower, wid two children, one"—here the forefinger wagged—"Eustace Berkeley, a nine-year boy; de oder, Mary, a child four year. On your moder Mr. Berkeley settle de farms of—of——" "Winton Chase and Odbury," said Mr. Swettenham Tape, speaking for the first time.