The stranger bowed acquiescence with a transient wintry smile, and
looked gratefully on the fire.

"This place is a good deal admired, sir, and people come a good way to
see it; you have been here perhaps before?"

"Many years ago."

Here was another pause.

"Places change imperceptibly--in detail, at least--a good deal," said
the Doctor, making an effort to keep up a conversation that plainly
would not go on of itself; "and people too; population shifts--there's
an old fellow, sir, they call _Death_."

"And an old fellow they call the _Doctor_, that helps him," threw in the
Captain humorously, allowing his attention to get entangled in the
conversation, and treating them to one of his tempestuous ha-ha-ha's.

"We are expecting the return of a gentleman who would be a very leading
member of our little society down here," said the Doctor, not noticing
the Captain's joke. "I mean Sir Bale Mardykes. Mardykes Hall is a pretty
object from the water, sir, and a very fine old place."

The melancholy stranger bowed slightly, but rather in courtesy to the
relator, it seemed, than that the Doctor's lore interested him much.

"And on the opposite side of the lake," continued Doctor Torvey, "there
is a building that contrasts very well with it--the old house of the
Feltrams--quite a ruin now, at the mouth of the glen--Cloostedd House, a