The next day was rather far advanced when I woke up and started from bed, on instantly remembering that I must be gone without delay.
During a hasty breakfast I could not refrain from speaking to the landlord of the noises which had disturbed me so much in my chamber.
"Was the wind high or stormy last night?" I began.
"No; the weather was rather calm," said he, with his mouth full, for he was making a hearty, old-fashioned breakfast of sliced beef, and nut-brown, home-brewed ale.
"Were any persons quarrelling or fighting hereabout?"
"When?"
"Why, all night; till two in the morning at least."
"I heard not a sound—the house was perfectly quiet." This statement the waiter, ostler, and landlady hastened to corroborate.
"Then," said I, "by Jove your inn is haunted."
"Take care what you say, my good fellow," replied the landlord, becoming angry; "for lookee, my house has as good a reputation as any in the county of Surrey, so none of your tricks, soldier."