Harry left the room, and was soon on his way to Carmansville. Once he got off the road, which was rather a perplexing one, but he soon found it again. However, it was half past five before he reached the village, and nearly an hour later before he had done the errand which brought him over. Finally, he came back to the tavern, and being by this time hungry, went in at once to the tavern, and being by this time hungry, went in at once to supper. He did full justice to the meal which was set before him. The day was cold, and his ride had stimulated his appetite.
When he sat down to the table he was alone; but a minute afterward a small, dark-complexioned man, with heavy black whiskers, came in, and sat down beside him. He had a heavy look, and a forbidding expression; but our hero was too busy to take particular notice of him till the latter commenced a conversation.
"It's a pretty cold day," he remarked.
"Very cold," said Harry. "I am dreading my ride back to Pentland."
"Are you going to Pentland to-night?" asked the stranger, with interest.
"Yes, sir."
"Do you live over there?"
"No; I am there for a short time only," Harry replied.
"Business?"
"Yes."