About half an hour after the noise of wheels was heard, and a wagon drove swiftly into the yard of the inn. An old man jumped out, gave his horse to the hostler, and entered the inn.
He was somewhat flushed and flurried. His eyes twinkled brightly, and there was a somewhat exuberant familiarity in his address to the landlord.
“There was a party who stopped here last night,” said he, “that I wish to see.”
“There was only one person here last night,” answered the landlord; “a young man—”
“A young man, yes—that’s right; I want to see him.”
“Well, as to that,” said the landlord, “I don’t know but you’ll have to wait. He ain’t up yet.”
“Isn’t he up yet?”
“No; he’s an awful sleeper. He went to bed last night early, for his lights were out before eleven, and now it’s nearly one, and he isn’t up.”
“At any rate, I must see him.”
“Shall I wake him?”