"Oh, yes, I saw his name on the bills in Norcaster the other day.

Came here, and has disappeared, you say?
Under what circumstances ?" Copplestone had listened carefully to the newcomer's voice; more particularly to his accent.

He had already gathered sufficient knowledge of Scarhaven to know that this man was the Squire, the master of the old house and grey ruin in the wood above the cliff; he also happened to know, being something of an archaeologist and well acquainted with family histories, that there had been Greyles of Scarhaven for many hundred years.

And he wondered how it was that though this Greyle's voice was pleasant and cultured enough, its accent was decidedly American.
"Perhaps I'd better explain," said Copplestone.

"I've already told most of it to this lady, but you will both understand more fully if I tell you more.