 the visitor, read by Derek Jacobi and Richard E. Grant. Not long ago a large wooden case was deposited at the door of my house by the railway delivery service. It was an unusually strong and well constructed object and made of some kind of dark red hardwood, not unlike mahogany. I lifted it with great difficulty onto a table in the garden and examined it carefully. The stenciling on one side said that it had been shipped from Heifer by the M. V. Waverly Star, but I could find no sender's name or address. I tried to think of somebody living in Heifer or thereabouts who might be wanting to send me a magnificent present I could think of no one. I walked slowly to the tool shed, still pondering the matter deeply, and returned with a hammer and screwdriver. Then I began gently to prize open the top of the case. Behold, it was filled with books, extraordinary books. One by one I lifted them all out, not yet looking inside any of them, and stacked them in three tall piles on the table. There were twenty-eight volumes altogether, and very beautiful they were indeed. Each of them was identically and superbly bound in rich green Morocco, with the initials OHC and a Roman numeral, one to twenty-eight, tooled in gold upon the spine. I took up the nearest volume, number sixteen, and opened it. The unlined white pages were filled with a neat small handwriting in black ink. On the title page was written 1934. Nothing else. I took up another volume, number twenty-one. It contained more manuscript in the same handwriting, but on the title page it said 1939. I put it down, and pulled out volume one hoping to find the preface of some kind there, or perhaps the author's name. Instead I found an envelope inside the cover. The envelope was addressed to me. I took out the letter it contained and glanced quickly at the signature. Oswald, Hendrix, Cornelius, it said. It was Uncle Oswald. No member of the family had heard from Uncle Oswald for over thirty years. This letter was dated the 10th of March 1964, and until its arrival we could only assume that he still existed. Nothing was really known about him except that he lived in France. Sample complete. Ready to continue?