"Can we have something to eat and to drink?" asked Stumpy, in broken English.
Martha nodded irritably and waved her hand toward the parlor.
The two entered.
Leicester looked round the room and seated himself in a distant corner.
A thrill of indignation ran through him as the door opened and Job entered, and he could scarcely refrain from springing at the wily little rogue and securing him at once.
But he was slightly mollified by observing on Job's face, as on that of all the others, a peculiar look of dissatisfaction and discontent.
Job eyed him and Stumpy with suspicious glances, and nodding to the others, took his old seat, calling as he did so for some ale.
Presently Job rose to light his pipe, and instead of reseating himself in his old place dropped into a chair near Leicester.
"Come far, sir?" he said, opening up a conversation.
Leicester raised his eyebrows and shook his head, waving his hand toward Stumpy, who interpreted the sentence, and replied, in broken English: