“Queer thing, now, that you should say that about a cottage, sir,” said the landlord confidentially. “It puts me in mind of an odd thing that happened in these parts, not so many years ago. All along of another gentleman, about the same age as you might be, sir, coming into this very bar and asking me if I knew of a lonely cottage for sale.” “Indeed?” replied the Professor casually. “Perhaps you would refill my glass with that most excellent brandy. And if you will do me the honour of taking another glass of gin with me——” “You’re very kind, sir,” said the landlord, filling up the glasses. “I thought you’d take to that brandy. As soon as I sees you taste it, I says to myself, ‘Here’s a gentleman that knows a good drop of liquor when he sees it.’ ’Tisn’t every gentleman that takes kindly to the drink nowadays, sir. Why, there’s some of them what drops in here for lunch as takes water with it! Can’t say I hold with it myself. Well, here’s your very good health, sir!” He consumed his glass of gin at a gulp, and stood with his elbows on the counter, looking at the Professor. “Your saying that about the cottage does put me in mind of that other,” he said, reminiscently. “Mind you, sir, not that he was like you at all. Of course I didn’t know who he was when he came in, but I say to myself, ‘That fellow’s no business man, I’ll warrant!’ And, as it turned out, I was right! But you can always tell, can’t you, sir?” “Usually,” agreed the Professor. “He was not a business man then?” “Not he!” exclaimed the landlord, contemptuously. “He was one of them scientific chaps, like you reads about in the papers. What good they does I don’t know! Always seems to me as though they’d be better employed doing something useful instead of talking a lot of gibberish decent folks don’t understand. Well, this poor chap suffered for his folly, anyhow.” “Why, what happened to him?” enquired the Professor without any great show of interest. “Burnt to death!” replied the landlord, impressively. “Burnt till there wasn’t nothing but a heap of charred bones left, sir. Terrible thing it was, and him all alone out on the heath there. Quiet enough chap he seemed too. Why, I couldn’t believe my ears when the constable told me about him afterwards. You wouldn’t have guessed what the chap was really, not if you was to try for a twelvemonth.” “I daresay not,” remarked the Professor dryly. “I never was good at guessing. What was he?” “Ticket o’ leave man!” exclaimed the landlord, leaning over the counter confidentially. “If you’ll believe me, that man had just served fourteen years hard on Dartmoor for murdering a Duke, when he walked into my bar as cool as a cucumber. Oh, he was a deep one, was that Mr. Morlandson! And not a soul bar the super knew a word about it!” “Burnt to death, was he!” remarked the Professor. “Dear me, what a terrible end. How did it happen?”