His wetting over night, his repose among the straw, and the subsequent journey among the carrier's bales and butter firkins had not improved his external appearance. Quentin felt aware of this, and reiterated angrily.
"Which way—did you not hear me?"
"You've taen the wrang gate, my friend, I'm thinking," replied the waiter, shaking his head.
"Wrong way! What do you mean, fellow?"
"Nae mair a fellow than yoursel'," said the waiter, saucily. "The 'Blue Bell,' doon the next wynd, or the 'Souter Johnnie,' opposite the Tolbooth, will better suit ye than the 'Anne's Head.' They are famous resorts for packmen and dustifute bodies."
"I mean to remain where I am. Show me to a bedroom, and order dinner for me in the dining-room," said Quentin, flushing up with sudden passion. "The best in the house, and lose no time!"
"Some military gentlemen are in the best chamber," urged the waiter, whom this manner did not fail to impress, as he lingered with his hand on the lock of a door.
"If the devil himself were there, what is it to me? Do as I order, or I will kick you into the street!"
The waiter, who, as tourists and idle travellers were then unknown in Ayr, was utterly at a loss to make out the character of this new guest, bowed and ushered him into a bedroom, after which, he hastened away, no doubt to report upon the dubious kind of occupant, who had almost forced his way into No. 20.
Though the contents of Quentin's portmanteau were limited, he speedily made such an improvement in his toilet, that when he came forth he received a very gracious bow from Boniface, who had been hovering about the corridor on the watch; and he was ushered into the principal dining-room of the establishment, a long and rather low-roofed apartment, having several massive tables and oval-backed old-fashioned chairs, a gigantic sideboard, within the brass rail of which stood three upright knife and spoon cases, several plated tankards, salvers, and branch candlesticks of quaint and antique form.