omely about Mr. Outwood. In
appearance he reminded Mike of Smee in "Peter Pan." He had the same
eyebrows and pince-nez and the same motherly look.

"Jackson?" he said mildly.

"Yes, sir."

"I am very glad to see you, very glad indeed. Perhaps you would like a
cup of tea after your journey. I think you might like a cup of tea.
You come from Crofton, in Shropshire, I understand, Jackson, near
Brindleford? It is a part of the country which I have always wished to
visit. I daresay you have frequently seen the Cluniac Priory of St.
Ambrose at Brindleford?"

Mike, who would not have recognised a Cluniac Priory if you had handed
him one on a tray, said he had not.

"Dear me! You have missed an opportunity which I should have been glad
to have. I am preparing a book on Ruined Abbeys and Priories of
England, and it has always been my wish to see the Cluniac Priory of
St. Ambrose. A deeply interesting relic of the sixteenth century.
Bishop Geoffrey, 1133-40----"

"Shall I go across to the boys' part, sir?"

"What? Yes. Oh, yes. Quite so. And perhaps you would like a cup of tea
after your journey? No? Quite so. Quite so. You should make a point of
visiting the remains of the Cluniac Priory in the summer holidays,
Jackson. You will find the matron in her room. In many respects it is
unique. The northern altar is in a state of really wonderful
preservation. It consists of a solid block of masonry five feet long
and two and a half wide, with chamfered plinth, standing quite free
from the apse wall. It will well repay a visit. Good-bye for the
present, Jackson, good-bye."

Mike wandered across to the other side of the house, his gloom visibly
deepened. All alone in a strange school, where they probably played
hopscotch, with a house-master who offered one cups of tea after one's
journey and talked about chamfered plinths and apses. It was a little
hard.

He strayed about, finding his bearings, and finally came to a room
which he took to be the equivalent of the senior day-room at a Wrykyn
house. Everywhere else he had found nothing but emptiness. Evidently
he had come by an earlier train than was usual. But this room was
occupied.

A very long, thin youth, with a solemn face and immaculate clothes,
was leaning against the mantelpiece. As Mike entered, he fumbled in
his top left waistcoat pocket, produced an eyeglass attached to a
cord, and fixed it in his right eye. With the help of this aid to
vision he inspected Mike