There was no lack of accommodation on this old road. The traveller had jogged it on but seven miles more when he came at Nutley to a very small village with a very large hostelry which, disdaining any mere ordinary sign, proclaimed itself the “Nutley Inn.” It does so still, but although it is a fine, handsome, four-square mansion-like building, it looks a little saddened by changed times and at being under the necessity of announcing, in those weird and wonderful words, “Petrol” and “Garage,” a dependence upon motor-cars. Another five miles, and at the little town of Uckfield, we have the “Maiden’s Head,” an early eighteenth-century inn with Assembly-room attached and a wonderful music gallery, rather larger than the “elevated den” at the “Bull,” Rochester. The interior of the “Maiden’s Head” at Uckfield is a good deal more comfortable than would be suspected from its brick front, with the semicircular bays painted in a compromise between white and a dull lead colour. At Lewes the traveller came to the “Star” inn, a worthy climax to this constellation, with the fine old staircase brought from Slaugham Place, as its chief feature: but the “Star” has of late been demolished. One of the finest in this posy of old inns is the “Luttrell Arms,” away down in Somersetshire, in the picturesque village of Dunster, on the shores of the Severn Sea. Dunster is noted for its ancient castle, for its curious old Yarn Market in the middle of the broad street, and no less for the “Luttrell Arms.” A fine uncertainty clings about the origin and the history of this beautiful house. Because of the Gothic timbered roof of the “oak room,” with hammer-beams and general construction somewhat resembling the design of the roof of Westminster Hall, and because of the very ecclesiastical-looking windows giving upon the courtyard, a vague tradition still lingers in the neighbourhood that the house was once a monastery. Nothing has survived to tell us who built this fine fifteenth-century structure, or for what purpose; but, while facts are wanting, the most likely theory remains that it was provided as a town residence for the Abbots of Cleeve, the Abbey whose ruins may still be found, in a rural situation, three miles away. In the governance and politics of such an Abbey, an Abbot’s residence in a centre such as Dunster was would be a highly desirable thing. There, almost under the shadow of the great feudal castle of the Mohuns, purchased in 1376 by the Luttrells, who still own the property, the Abbots were in touch with the great world, and able to intrigue and manage for the interests of the Church in general and of the Abbey in particular, much better than would have been possible in the cloistered shades of Cleeve. The Luttrells no doubt gave the land, and possibly even built the house for the Abbots; and when the Reformation came and conventual properties were confiscated, they simply received back what their ancestors had given away.