“The taller gentleman yonder is surely your squire, is he not? but who is the shorter and younger person?”
The landlady put forth her head.
“Oh! that is a relation of the squire down on a visit, sir. I heard coachman say that the squire’s taken to him hugely; and they do think at the Hall that the young gentleman will be his heir.”
“Aha!—indeed—his heir! What is the lad’s name? What relation can he be to Mr. Darrell?”
“I don’t know what relation exactly, sir; but he is one of the Haughtons, and they’ve been kin to the Fawley folks time out of mind.”
“Haughton?—aha! Thank you, ma’am. Change, if you please.”
The stranger tossed off his dram, and stretched his hand for his change.
“Beg pardon, sir, but this must be forring money,” said the landlady, turning a five-franc piece on her palm with suspicious curiosity.
“Foreign! Is it possible?” The stranger dived again into his pocket, and apparently with some difficulty hunted out half-a-crown.
“Sixpence more, if you please, sir; three brandies, and bread-and-cheese and the ale too, sir.”