Inside the place was very noble and ancient.
Stumm switched on the electric light, and there was a great hall with black tarnished portraits of men an women in old-fashioned clothes, and mighty horns of deer on the walls.
There seemed to be no superfluity of servants.

The old fellow said that food was ready, and without more ado we went into the dining-room--another vast chamber with rough stone walls above the panelling--and found some cold meats on the table beside a big fire.
The servant presently brought in a ham omelette, and on that and the cold stuff we dined.

I remember there was nothing to drink but water.
It puzzled me how Stumm kept his great body going on the very moderate amount of food he ate.

He was the type you expect to swill beer by the bucket and put away a pie in a sitting.
When we had finished, he rang for the old man and told him that we should be in the study for the rest of the evening.

'You can lock up and go to bed when you like,' he said, 'but see you have coffee ready at seven sharp in the morning.' Ever since I entered that house I had the uncomfortable feeling of being in a prison.