‘I keep the inn. Come. I will take you to it.’
He turned and led the way up the street. We followed, the people making a lane for us and still regarding us with stony stares. Denny gave expression to my feelings as well as his own;
‘It can hardly be described as an ovation,’ he observed.
‘Surly brutes!’ muttered Hogvardt.
‘It is not the way to receive his lordship,’ agreed Watkins, more in sorrow than in anger. Watkins had very high ideas of the deference due to his lordship.
The fat innkeeper walked ahead; I quickened my pace and overtook him.
‘The people don’t seem very pleased to see me,’ I remarked.
He shook his head, but made no answer. Then he stopped before a substantial house. We followed him in, and he led us upstairs to a large room. It overlooked the street, but, somewhat to my surprise, the windows were heavily barred. The door also was massive and had large bolts inside and outside.
‘You take good care of your houses, my friend,’ said Denny with a laugh.