"Outlandish," was the epithet which lumbered into Master Vallance's mind as he gaped, and the epithet fitted the new-comer aptly. He was, indeed, an Englishman; that was plain enough to the instinct of another Englishman, if only for the gray-blue English eyes; and yet there was little that was English in the sun-scorched darkness of his face, little that was English in the almost fantastic effrontery of his carriage, the more than fantastic effrontery of his habit. When the stranger perceived that he had riveted Master Vallance's attention, he smiled a derisive smile, which allowed the innkeeper to observe a mouthful of teeth irregular but white. Then he extended a lean, brown hand whose fingers glittered with many rings, and caught Master Vallance by his fat shoulder, into whose flesh the grip seemed to sink like the resistless talons of a bird of prey. Slowly he swayed Master Vallance backward and forward, while over the dark face rippled a succession of leers, grins, and grimaces, which had the effect of making Master Vallance feel thoroughly uncomfortable. Nor did the stranger's speech, when speech came, carry much of reassurance. "Bestir thee, drowsy serving-slave of Bacchus," the stranger chanted, in a pompous, high-pitched voice. "Emerge from the lubberland of dreams, and be swift in attendance upon a wight whose wandering star has led him to your hospitable gate." As the stranger uttered these last words his hand had drawn the bemused innkeeper towards him: with their utterance he suddenly released his grip, thereby causing Master Vallance to lurch heavily backward and bump his shoulders sorely against the inn wall. The stranger thrust his face close to Master Vallance's, and while a succession of grimaces rippled over its sunburned surface he continued, in a tone of mock pathos: "Do you shut your door against the houseless and the homeless, O iron-hearted innkeeper? Can the wandering orphan find no portion in your heart?" Then, as Master Vallance was slowly making sure that he had to deal with a dangerous lunatic, the stranger drew himself up and swayed to and fro in a fit of inextinguishable laughter. "Lordamercy upon me," he said, when he had done laughing, in a perfectly natural voice. "I have seen some frightened fools before, but never a fool so frightened. Tell me, honest blockhead, did you ever hear such a name as Halfman?" Master Vallance, torpidly reassured, meditated. "Halfman," he murmured. "Halfman. Ay, there was one in this village, long ago, had such a name. He had a roguish son, and they say the son came to a bad end." The new-comer nodded his head gravely.