"Vibart!" I nodded.
"Related in any way to—Sir Maurice Vibart?"
"His cousin, sir." My companion appeared lost in thought, for he was puffing at his empty pipe again.
"Do you happen to know Sir Maurice?" I inquired.
"No," returned the Preacher; "no, sir, but I have heard mention of him, and lately, though just when, or where, I cannot for the life of me recall."
"Why, the name is familiar to a great many people," said I; "you see, he is rather a famous character, in his way."
Talking thus, we presently reached a stile beyond which the footpath led away through swaying corn and by shady hopgarden, to Sissinghurst village. Here the Preacher stopped and gave me his hand, but I noticed he still puffed at his pipe.
"And you are now a blacksmith?"
"And mightily content so to be."
"You are a most strange young man!" said the Preacher, shaking his head.