“He is not here at present, sir,” said the freckled maid; “he is at his own house.”
“And why is he not here?” said I.
“Because he is not wanted, sir; he only comes in summer when the house is full of people.”
And having said this the little freckled damsel left the room.
“Reither a cool night, sir!” said the enormous man after we had been alone together a few minutes.
I again almost started, for he spoke with the same kind of half-piping, half-wheezing voice, with which methought the Wolverhampton gent had spoken to me in my dream.
“Yes,” said I; “it is rather cold out abroad, but I don’t care, as I am not going any farther to-night.”
“That’s not my case,” said the stout man, “I have got to go ten miles, as far as Cerrig Drudion, from which place I came this afternoon in a wehicle.”
“Do you reside at Cerrig Drudion?” said I.
“No,” said the stout man, whose dialect I shall not attempt further to imitate, “but I have been staying there some time; for happening to go there a month or two ago I was tempted to take up my quarters at the inn. A very nice inn it is, and the landlady a very agreeable woman, and her daughters very agreeable young ladies.”