Although the hour was late, the custodian admitted us to the ruins and we passed over a narrow bridge which crossed the moat.  The pathway led through a door in the great gateway, over which still hangs suspended the iron port-cullis.  Inside there was a grassy court, surrounded by the walls and ruined apartments of the castle.  I ascended one of the main towers by a dilapidated stone stairway and was well repaid for the effort by the glorious moonlit prospect that stretched out before me.

When we returned to the Castle Inn, we found the landlady all attention and she spared no effort to contribute to our comfort.  The little inn was cleanlier and better kept than many of the more pretentious ones.  Bodiam is several miles from the railroad and but few tourists visit the castle.  The principal business of the hotel is to cater to parties of English trippers who make the neighborhood a resort for fishing and hunting.

An early start from Bodiam brought us to Tunbridge Wells before ten o’clock in the morning.  This city, although of considerable size, is comparatively modern and has little to detain tourists.  Like Harrogate and Bath, its popularity is largely due to its mineral springs.  In its immediate neighborhood, however, there are many places of interest, and we determined to make a circular tour among some of these, returning to Tunbridge Wells for the night.

[Illustration:  Entrance front Bodiam castle, Sussex.]

A few miles from Tunbridge Wells is Offham, a little, out-of-the-way village which boasts of a queer mediaeval relic, the only one of the kind remaining in the Kingdom.  This is called a quintain post and stands in the center of the village green.  It consists of a revolving crossbar on the top of a tall, white post.  One end of the bar is flattened and pierced with small holes, while at the other a billet of wood is suspended from a chain.  The pastime consisted of riding on horseback and aiming a lance at one of the holes in the broad end of the crossbar.  If the aim were true, the impact would swing the club around with violence, and unless the rider were agile he was liable to be unhorsed—­rough and dangerous sport, but no doubt calculated to secure dexterity with the lance on horseback.  This odd relic is religiously preserved by the village and looks suspiciously new, considering the long period since such a pastime must have been practiced.  However, this may be due to the fact that the tenant of an adjoining cottage is required by the terms of his lease to keep the post in good repair, a stipulation, no doubt, to which we owe its existence.