“The landlord does not seem to share your opinion?” continued Susan, looking once more at the stranger.
“As a host he believes in brave deeds, not fair words,” said Kate, indicating the remains of the repast.
“Peace to his bones!” exclaimed the manager, extending a hand over the remnants of the suckling.
Here the dark-haired girl arose, the dinner being concluded. There was none of his usual brusqueness of manner, as the manager, leaning back in his chair and taking her hand, said:
“You are going to retire, my dear? That is right. We have had a hard day’s traveling.”
She bent her head, and her lips pressed softly the old man’s cheek, after which she turned from the rest of the company with a grave bow. But as she passed through the doorway her flowing gown caught upon a nail in the wall. Pre-occupied though he seemed, her low exclamation did not escape the ear of the stranger, and, quitting his place, he knelt at her feet, and she, with half turned head and figure gracefully poised, looked down upon him.
With awkward fingers, he released the dress, and she bowed her acknowledgment, which he returned with formal deference. Then she passed on and he raised his head, his glance following her through the bleak-looking hall, up the broad, ill-lighted staircase, into the mysterious shadows which prevailed above.