“Yes, sir,—England. For you are an Englishman, unless your tongue belies you.”
The man laughed and waved his hand.
“That will be all, I think,” said he. “So make haste and don’t stand making hazards at the private affairs of your guests.”
Indignantly the hostess turned away.
“Such high and mighty ways,” she muttered to Nat. “It’ll be a blessing if he has enough money in his purse to settle his score in the morning.”
And with this she went angrily into her kitchen, slamming the door, leaving Nat to seat himself upon a settle along the wall and amuse himself by studying the stranger.
The latter was a tall man with a high, prominent nose and a wide, thin-lipped mouth. His hair was very long and worn in a queue, and his black-stockinged legs were thrown carelessly over the arm of his chair in an unsightly, lounging way that gave him the appearance of great awkwardness. There was still considerable daylight, and he read a newspaper which he took from his pocket as soon as the landlady had departed.
“And the newspaper has something in it which amuses him greatly,” thought Nat, as he watched the humorous twitching of the thin-lipped mouth.
Wider and wider grew the smile and at last the man threw the news sheet from him with a roar of glee.
“Now out upon them for a parcel of raving maniacs,” said he. “Did ever any one hear of such folly before since the world began?”