"What—doth it raineth—eh?"
"Oh, no!"
"What can I do fer ye? Take a seat," said Droop, as the stranger dropped into a chair. "Thou knowest, forsooth, that I don't take photygraphs at night—marry, no!"
"Are you, then, the new limner who makes pictures by aid of the box and glass?"
"Yea—that's what I am," said Droop.
"I was ignorant of the location of your dwelling. Indeed, it is pure accident—a trick of Fortune that hath brought me to your door to-night."
Droop seated himself and directed an interrogative gaze at his visitor.
"My name's Droop—Copernicus Droop," he said. "An' you——"
"My name is Francis Bacon, Master Droop—your servitor," he bowed slightly.
Droop started up stiff and straight in his chair.