He ate an excellent breakfast in a cosey little parlor, and when he had finished he sent for the landlord, who quickly made his appearance.
"Do you know Captain Horatio Sterling?" asked Oscar.
That was not the name of the gentleman to whom the young traveller's letters of introduction were addressed; but we must call him by some name, you know.
"Do I know the greatest hunter in all England?" exclaimed the landlord. "Why, bless you, sir, everybody knows him. He has been all over the world, and killed more tigers, lions, and elephants than any other living man. He lives in that big house on the hill about a mile from here."
"Very well," said Oscar, drawing an official envelope from his pocket. "I would thank you to send this to him at once. There is something for the messenger," he added, placing a shilling in the landlord's hand.
The envelope contained three letters of introduction, Oscar's card, which also bore the name of his hotel, and a note he had written before going to bed, containing the statement that he would be glad to wait upon the captain at any hour of the day or evening when it might be most convenient for the captain to grant him an interview.
Oscar saw the messenger depart on his errand, and having the parlor to himself and not knowing what else to do, he began pacing the floor with his hands in his pockets.
About two hours later, while he stood at the window looking out at the lowering sky and the falling rain, he saw a gig, drawn by a high-stepping horse and driven by a hearty old gentleman in greatcoat and muffler, dash into the stable-yard.
A man came up to take the horse, and the driver, alighting from his gig, bounded up the steps with all the agility of a boy and burst into the hall.