The young man pulled his chair up and pushed his wet feet out towards the blaze.

“My name,” said he, “is John Openshaw, but my own affairs have, as far as I can understand, little to do with this awful business.  It is a hereditary matter; so in order to give you an idea of the facts, I must go back to the commencement of the affair.

“You must know that my grandfather had two sons—­my uncle Elias and my father Joseph.  My father had a small factory at Coventry, which he enlarged at the time of the invention of bicycling.  He was a patentee of the Openshaw unbreakable tire, and his business met with such success that he was able to sell it and to retire upon a handsome competence.

“My uncle Elias emigrated to America when he was a young man and became a planter in Florida, where he was reported to have done very well.  At the time of the war he fought in Jackson’s army, and afterwards under Hood, where he rose to be a colonel.  When Lee laid down his arms my uncle returned to his plantation, where he remained for three or four years.  About 1869 or 1870 he came back to Europe and took a small estate in Sussex, near Horsham.  He had made a very considerable fortune in the States, and his reason for leaving them was his aversion to the negroes, and his dislike of the Republican policy in extending the franchise to them.  He was a singular man, fierce and quick-tempered, very foul-mouthed when he was angry, and of a most retiring disposition.  During all the years that he lived at Horsham, I doubt if ever he set foot in the town.  He had a garden and two or three fields round his house, and there he would take his exercise, though very often for weeks on end he would never leave his room.  He drank a great deal of brandy and smoked very heavily, but he would see no society and did not want any friends, not even his own brother.

“He didn’t mind me; in fact, he took a fancy to me, for at the time when he saw me first I was a youngster of twelve or so.  This would be in the year 1878, after he had been eight or nine years in England.  He begged my father to let me live with him and he was very kind to me in his way.  When he was sober he used to be fond of playing backgammon and draughts with me, and he would make me his representative both with the servants and with the tradespeople, so that by the time that I was sixteen I was quite master of the house.  I kept all the keys and could go where I liked and do what I liked, so long as I did not disturb him in his privacy.  There was one singular exception, however, for he had a single room, a lumber-room up among the attics, which was invariably locked, and which he would never permit either me or anyone else to enter.  With a boy’s curiosity I have peeped through the keyhole, but I was never able to see more than such a collection of old trunks and bundles as would be expected in such a room.