courteous welcome.

"Good morning, lad! And good morning to those you bring,
whencesoever they come."

"They come, sir," I answered "in Jo Pomery's ketch _Gauntlet_, I
believe from Italy; and with a message for you."

"My father turned his gaze from me to the spokesman at my elbow.
His eyebrows lifted with surprise and sudden pleasure.

"Hey?" he exclaimed. "Is it my old friend--"

But the other, before his name could be uttered, lifted a hand.

"My name is the Brother Basilio now, Sir John: no other am I
permitted to remember. The peace of God be with you, and upon your
house!"

"And with you, Brother Basilio, since you will have it so: and with
all your company! You bear a message for me? But first you must
break your fast." He turned to lead the way to the house.

"We have eaten already, Sir John. As soon as your leisure serves, we
would deliver our message."

My father called to Billy Priske--who hung in the rear of the monks--
bidding him fetch my uncle Gervase in from the stables to the State
Room, and so, without another word, motioned to his visitors to
follow. To this day I can hear the shuffle of their bare feet on the