chain up the dog. He eyes me with such
hungry hostility that, gad! I believe he's an anti-renter!"

Mauville was ushered into a large room, where great leather-bound
volumes filled the oak shelves to the ceiling. The care-taker turned,
and, with echoing footsteps, slowly departed, followed by his faithful
four-footed retainer. It is true the latter paused, swung half-around
and regarded the land-owner with the look of a sulky and rebellious
tenant, but, summoned by a stern "Oloffe!" from his master, the dog
reluctantly pattered across the hard-wood floor.

In surveying his surroundings, the land baron's attention was
attracted by a coat-of-arms deeply carved in the massive wood of the
book-case--on a saltire sable, a fleur-de-lys or. This head of
heraldic flowers appeared to interest Mauville, who smiled grimly.
"From what I know of my worthy ancestors," he muttered, "and their
propensities to prey on their fellow-men, I should say a more fitting
device would be that of Lovett of Astwell: Gules, three wolves passant
sable, in pale."

Pleased with his own humor, he threw himself upon a couch near the
window, stretching himself luxuriously. Soon the man reappeared with
the refreshments and a bottle of old-fashioned, substantial girth,
which he uncorked with marked solicitude.

"Where are the oly-koeks?" exclaimed the heir.

The watchman pointed to a great dish of dark blue willow-ware
pattern.

"Oh, doughnuts!" said Mauville. "You know where the family lawyer
lives? Have my man drive you to his house and bring him here at
once."

As the care-taker again disappeared the heir bent over the curiously
shaped bottle in delight, for when the cork was drawn a fragrance
filled the musty apartment as from a bouquet.

"Blessings on the ancestor who laid down this wine!" he muttered.
"May his ghost wander in to sniff it! These oly-koeks are not bad.
I suppose this man, Ten Breecheses, or whatever he is called, is at
once cook and housekeeper. Although I don't think much of his
housekeeping," ruminated Mauville, as he observed a herculean spider
weaving a web from an old volume of Giraldus Cambrensis, antiquary,
to the classical works of one Joseph of Exeter. There is a strong
sympathy between wine and cobwebs, and Mauville watched with
increasing interest the uses to which these ponderous tomes had
sunk--but serving the bloodthirsty purpose of the nimble architect,
evolving its delicate engineering problem in mid air.