The man who let us in was tall and stout, but had a puffy face, and too much flesh on him to be very strong, though he was not, I think, more than thirty years of age.

He gave Elzevir a smile, and passed the time of day civilly enough, nodding also to me; but I did not like his oily black hair, and a shifty eye that turned away uneasily when one met it.
'Good-morning, Master Well-wright,' he said to Elzevir.

'You have brought ugly weather with you, and are drowning wet; will you take a sup of ale before you get to work ?' Elzevir thanked him kindly but would not drink, so the man led on and we followed him.

We crossed a bailey or outer court where the rain had made the gravel very miry, and came on the other side to a door which led by steps into a large hall.

This building had once been a banquet-room, I think, for there was an inscription over it very plain in lead: _He led me into his banquet hall, and his banner over me was love_.
I had time to read this while the turnkey unlocked the door with one of a heavy bunch of keys that he carried at his girdle.