He had departed, with a wave of his hand, and had proceeded some hundred yards or more upon his way, when he heard a step in the snow at his side; and glancing up, he recognized the courier, Johnson Quinsey.
“Your pardon,” said the man, and in the rays of a near-by camp-fire, Ben noted an intent expression upon his face. “I heard you answer to the name of Cooper?”
“That,” said Ben, “is my name.”
“Benjamin Cooper?” The man’s head bent a trifle nearer, as though to show the increase of his interest.
“The same,” answered the boy.
There was a brief pause, then the man said:
“It is odd how chance guides one’s footsteps, at times. When I approached that fire where you sat I had no thought of meeting with you, and yet it was the hope of seeing you, alone, that brought me to this encampment.”
CHAPTER XVI
IN WHICH BEN MEETS A STRANGER AND HEARS
OF THE INN WITH THE GREEN LIGHT
For a space after Johnson Quinsey spoke these surprising words, Ben remained looking at him, steadily, but in silence. At length he spoke:
“I am honored, indeed, Master Quinsey, to know that I am considered worthy of the trouble it must have cost you to get here.”