“Bless you,” smiled the host, “you are not the first to find that out to-night, by a good bit, sir.”
“Quite a company,” said Ben, and as he spoke he surveyed the gathering curiously.
“Quite, sir,” answered the other, well pleased. “It taxes us to serve them all; but we are being paid for it in coin, so what matters a trifle of labor? At times like these when the Americans come down on us we are usually paid in notes,” and the landlord made a wry face. “And when it’s the British, they do not bother to pay at all.”
There was a short silence, then Ben said in a low voice:
“Perhaps, sir, you might have the acquaintance of a Master Bleekwood.”
The expression upon the host’s face changed instantly from one of careless good humor to one of acute interest.
“Ah, so it is you, then,” he said. “I am most pleased to see you, indeed.” Then lifting his voice he called, before Ben could prevent him:
“Master Bleekwood, a gentleman desires the favor of a word with you, sir.”
At the far end of the room a man in a brown velvet coat arose. He was tall and thin and had cadaverous cheeks and long hair, tied in the back and faintly powdered. He approached with hasty, nervous steps.
“Sir,” said he to Ben, “I am pleased to see you.”