On a bench outside the tavern, and in part concealed by the deep shadows of its old, overhanging thatch-covered eaves, sat a powerful-looking youth with stick and bundle.
He sat there listening to the music inside, and more than once heaved a deep sigh.
It was almost impossible to see his features, but what little could be discerned showed that he was a handsome-looking and powerfully built rustic youth of about eighteen years of age.
He seemed desirous of remaining concealed in the deep shadows of the house, for he crouched close under the shadow of the overhanging roof.
If any one had been close enough to observe him they would have perceived that this country-looking youth not only frequently sighed but that more than once he hastily, and in an angry manner, dashed away from his eye a stray tell-tale tear-drop that trickled down his sun-burnt cheek.
He listened to the merriment within, and more than once a faint sickly smile lit up his handsome features.
The noise of loud laughter continued within, but all at once a labourer’s voice was heard, who shouted out, in stentorian tones—
“Come, lads and lasses, I’ll give ye all a toast! Fill up yer glasses to the brim, and do justice to it.”
“Hear! hear!”
“What is it, Mr. Chairman?” said one and another.