The Castle Inn - Page 472/559

A solitary candle burning in a room on the right of the hall, guided

their feet that way. Its light disclosed a red-curtained snuggery, well

furnished with kegs and jolly-bodied jars, and rows of bottles; and in

the middle of this cheerful profusion the landlord himself, stooping

over a bottle of port, which he was lovingly decanting. His array, a

horseman's coat worn over night-gear, with bare feet thrust into

slippers, proved him newly risen from bed; but the hum of voices and

clatter of plates which came from the neighbouring kitchen were signs

that, late as it was, the good inn was not caught napping.

The host heard their steps behind him, but crying 'Coming, gentlemen,

coming!' finished his task before he turned. Then 'Lord save us!' he

ejaculated, staring at them--the empty bottle in one hand, the decanter

in the other. 'Why, the road's alive to-night! I beg your honour's

pardon, I am sure, and yours, sir! I thought 'twas one of the gentlemen

that arrived, awhile ago--come down to see why supper lagged. Squire

Pomeroy, to be sure! What can I do for you, gentlemen? The fire is

scarce out in the Hertford, and shall be rekindled at once?' Mr. Pomeroy silenced him by a gesture. 'No,' he said; 'we are not

staying. But you have some guests here, who arrived half an hour ago?' 'To be sure, your honour. The same I was naming.' 'Is there a young lady

with them?' The landlord looked hard at him. 'A young lady?' he said.

'Yes! Are you deaf, man?' Pomeroy retorted wrathfully, his impatience

getting the better of him. 'Is there a young lady with them? That is

what I asked.' But the landlord still stared; and it was only after an appreciable

interval that he answered cautiously: 'Well, to be sure, I am not--I am

not certain. I saw none, sir. But I only saw the gentlemen when they had

gone upstairs. William admitted them, and rang up the stables. A young

lady?' he continued, rubbing his head as if the question perplexed him.

'May I ask, is't some one your honour is seeking?' 'Damme, man, should I ask if it weren't?' Mr. Pomeroy retorted angrily.

'If you must know, it is this gentleman's daughter, who has run away

from her friends.' 'Dear, dear!' 'And taken up with a beggarly Irishman!' The landlord stared from one to the other in great perplexity. 'Dear

me!' he said. 'That is sad! The gentleman's daughter!' And he looked at

Mr. Thomasson, whose fat sallow face was sullenness itself. Then,

remembering his manners, 'Well, to be sure, I'll go and learn,' he

continued briskly. 'Charles!' to a half-dressed waiter, who at that

moment appeared at the foot of the stairs, 'set lights in the Yarmouth

and draw these gentlemen what they require. I'll not be many minutes,

Mr. Pomeroy.' He hurried up the narrow staircase, and an instant later appeared on the

threshold of a room in which sat two gentlemen, facing one another in

silence before a hastily-kindled fire. They had travelled together from

Bristol, cheek by jowl in a post-chaise, exchanging scarce as many words

as they had traversed miles. But patience, whether it be of the sullen

or the dignified cast, has its limits; and these two, their tempers

exasperated by a chilly journey taken fasting, had come very near to the

end of sufferance. Fortunately, at the moment Mr. Dunborough--for he was

the one--made the discovery that he could not endure Sir George's

impassive face for so much as the hundredth part of another minute--and

in consequence was having recourse to his invention for the most brutal

remark with which to provoke him--the port and the landlord arrived

together; and William, who had carried up the cold beef and stewed

kidneys by another staircase, was heard on the landing. The host helped

to place the dishes on the table. Then he shut out his assistant.