With due thanks to, and musing on the inextinguishable influence of tradition, thus continued and wove into the life of our humble but intelligent informant, we saunter along, until the rippling sound of water attracts us on our left. Mounting the low ledge that bounds our path on its other side, at our feet in the enclosure below (locally termed the Bisse) the Brooke or Broke sparkles along gaily as ever, and apparently as undiminished as when four centuries a-past, the knight, whose memories we are in search of, forded its flow. A little farther beyond, and the lane we have been traversing descends abruptly into its bed, which forms a continuance of the thoroughfare for a short distance. Our path diverges through the gate on the right, and into the green fields. Here, at once, although much ameliorated to the wants of the modern farmer, the undulating nature of the ground, the richness of the turf, and scattered stately trees still lingering about to attest its olden beauty and importance, we recognize unerringly the well known characteristics of an antient park, but apparently not of large size. Traces of a winding road lead on from the lane gate, and stretch away over a swarded knoll, on the right; with pleasurable steps we reach the summit of the acclivity, and descry at about another field's space ahead, the still existing remains of the Brooke Hall of our trusty informant. "A grand place once"--we ruminate, recalling the words of the old stone-breaker, as we halt under the shadow of a tall, massive gable, buttressed at the angles like a church, and with the original hip-knop a trefoil on a stalk, still very perfect, and bravely weathering the sunshine and breeze at its apex. From this gable stretches back a building ninety feet long with high-pitched roof, and forms one side of the farm-court. Its further end is joined to a cross-structure of smaller size, now used as the farm dwelling-house. Cautiously we push open the large doors of the cow-court and look inside. This, from no dread of meeting, and having our intruding footsteps ordered off by the antient knight who once possessed it, but rather from the undesirableness of making too sudden acquaintanceship with the vigilant curly-tailed custodian of its precincts eyeing us from within, and who may not, until properly assured to the contrary, be quite satisfied with the object of our investigation; but a kindly word of advice to him, and of welcome to us, from his master close by, speedily puts everything at ease, and with full permission for inspection. Before however we proceed to investigate the old place, we mentally join company with the famous old itinerant Leland, who came here on a similar errand, and recall the burthen of his description, when it was in pristine condition, and still in possession of the Willoughbys.