Ravensdene Court

to a remarkable original. There was something supremely odd about him. I thought, at first, that my impression of oddity might be derived from his clothes-he wore a strangely-cut

nd it was decidedly one of mystery.

hey were when he left England for India in the 'seventies: he was essentially mid-Victorian) and in order to keep up to it, I saluted Mr. Cazalette with great respect and expressed myself as feeling highly honoured

am in mine, and between the pair of us I've no doubt we'll be able to reduce chaos into o

ostess with another knowing glance, reminding me somehow of a wicked old condor which I ha

ce at me, "never, on principle, touches bite or sup between

. Cazalette. "I'd never have lived to my age nor kept my energy at what, t

t, Mr. Cazalet

d! And on my hundredth birthday, I'll give a party, and I'll dance with the sprightliest l

ven. "I veritably believe he feels-and is-young

ation-on their own part, at any rate-as a wicked disturbance of sacred rites. As the meal progressed (and Mr. Raven's cook proved to be an unusually clever and good one) I was astonished at Mr. Cazalette's gastronomic powers and at his love of mad dishes: indeed, I never saw a man eat so much, nor with such hearty appreciation of his food, nor in such a concentrated silence. Nevertheless, that he kept his ears wide open to wha

you mention the name

aid I. "Ne

listening. I'm a silent man when I'm busy with

ith Salter Quick. When I came to that, the footman who stood behind Mr. Cazalette's chair was just r

Middlebrook, and it tempts me to break my rule and tal

neighbourhood," I repl

name Netherfield on their stones o

red with at the inn, they'd never heard

nor elsewhere

e one of those disused burial-grounds of which the

some?" sugges

s deserted village. The folks go-the bit of a church falls into ruins-its graveyard gets choked with weeds-the stones are covered with moss and lichen-the monuments fall and

. Raven, "is that two men should be

rked his niece. "Anyway, it all sounds very queer-you've brought mystery with you, Mr. Middl

ry, the peculiar aroma of which evidently aroused his epicurean instinct. Instead of re

ave an old-fashioned taste for claret-and joined Miss Raven in the hall, a great, roomy, shadowy place which was evidently popular. There was a great fire in its big hearth-p

sked in a low voice as I sat down. "Isn't there

"Yes-I think uncanny would fit him. A v

t surprise me if he lived to be four hundred. He's so queer. Do you know that

her?" I s

w, and he has never missed that morning swim. And sometimes the mornings hav

it in with his present surroundings. From what I have seen of it, M

m floor to ceiling with books, pictures, statuary, armour, curiosities of every sort and of many ages. The prod

my great-uncle, who left all this to Uncle Francis recently, must have done nothing whatever but buy, and buy, and buy things, and then, when he got th

your great-u

nths ago and fetched me from the school where I'd been ever since my father and mother died-that was when I was twel

g under the old fami

a somewhat u

e very soul of kindness-I think he's the very kindest pe

ow-what?"

ouse altogether, and there's a strange atmosphere about it, and I think something must have happened here.

even now," I suggested. "You'll get use

door life, and that I take an interest in books, too. But I'm very deficient in knowledge in book matters-do t

I was a little sorry when my host came in with his other guest-who, a loop-hole being given him, proceeded to give us a learned dissertation on the evidences of Roman occupation of the North of England as evidenced by recent and former discoveries of coins between Trent and Tweed: it

if I wanted to read or write, I should be comfortable in my retirement. On hearing that, I begged him to countermand any such luxuries on my account in future; it was my invariable habit, I assur

ade about it!-the old saw, much despised and laughed at though it is, has more in it than

ly as you do, though," remarked Mr. Raven. "Y

, complacently. "And I hope to catch a few more yet. You folk who d

as just about to rise. Springing out of bed and drawing up the blind of one of the three tall, narrow windows of my room, I saw him mounting behind a belt of pine and fir which stretched along a bluff of land that ran down

arly two-and-a-half hours of leisure. Of course, I would go out, and enjoy the freshness of the morning. I turned to the window again, just to take another view of the scenery in

n. I watched him curiously as he came along the borders of a thick yew hedge at the side of the gardens. Suddenly, at a particular point, he stopped, and drawing something out of his towels, thrust it, at the full length of his arm, into the closely interwoven

the place where Mr. Cazalette had stood when he thrust his arm into it; thereabouts, the ground was soft, mossy, damp: the marks of his shoes were plain. Out of mere curiosity, I stood where he had stood, and slightly parting the thick, clinging twigs, peeped into the obscurity behind. And there, thrust right in amongst the yew, I saw somethin

morning swim-no doubt in very shallow waters-had cut hand or foot against some sharp pebble or bit of rock, and had used his handkerchief as a bandage until the bleeding stopped. Yet-why thru

haracter," I mused.

I had seen the sun rise, and came out on a little, rock-bound cove, desolate and wild. Here one was shut out from everything but the sea in front: Ravensdene Court was no longer visib

here, on the sand before me, his face turned to the sky, his arms helplessly stretched, lay Salter Quick. I knew he was dead in my first hor