The out-rider, who was in handsome livery, had gallopped on in advance of the carriage a short distance, for the purpose of ordering the best apartments in the inn to be immediately prepared for the reception of his master.

“Who is he?” asked the landlord.

“It’s the Baron Stolmuyer Saltsburgh.”

“Bless my heart, I never heard of him before; where did he come from—­somewhere abroad I suppose?”

“I can’t tell you anything of him further than that he is immensely rich, and is looking for a house.  He has heard that there is one to let in this immediate neighbourhood, and that’s what has brought him from London, I suppose.”

“Yes, there is one; and it is called Anderbury-on-the-Mount.”

“Well, he will very likely speak to you about it himself, for here he comes.”

By this time the carriage had halted at the door of the hotel, and, the door being opened, and the steps lowered, there alighted from it a tall man attired in a kind of pelisse, or cloak, trimmed with rich fur, the body of it being composed of velvet.  Upon his head he wore a travelling cap, and his fingers, as he grasped the cloak around him, were seen to be covered with rings of great value.

Such a personage, coming in such style, was, of course, likely to be honoured in every possible way by the landlord of the inn, and accordingly he was shown most obsequiously to the handsomest apartment in the house, and the whole establishment was put upon the alert to attend to any orders he might choose to give.

He had not been long in the place when he sent for the landlord, who, hastily scrambling on his best coat, and getting his wife to arrange the tie of his neckcloth, proceeded to obey the orders of his illustrious guest, whatever they might chance to be.

He found the Baron Stolmuyer reclining upon a sofa, and having thrown aside his velvet cloak, trimmed with rich fur, he showed that underneath it he wore a costume of great richness and beauty, although, certainly, the form it covered was not calculated to set it off to any great advantage, for the baron was merely skin and bone, and looked like a man who had just emerged from a long illness, for his face was ghastly pale, and the landlord could not help observing that there was a strange peculiarity about his eyes, the reason of which he could not make out.

“You are the landlord of this inn, I presume,” said the baron, “and, consequently, no doubt well acquainted with the neighbourhood?”

“I have the honour to be all that, sir.  I have been here about sixteen years, and in that time I certainly ought to know something of the neighbourhood.”

“’Tis well; some one told me there was a little cottage sort of place to let here, and as I am simple and retired in my habits I thought that it might possibly suit me.”

“A little cottage, sir!  There are certainly little cottages to let, but not such as would suit you; and if I might have presumed, sir, to think, I should have considered Anderbury-on-the-Mount, which is now to let, would have been the place for you.  It is a large place, sir, and belonged to a good family, although they are now all dead and gone, except one, and it’s he who wants to let the old place.”