The host accommodatingly shut his mouth, and taking the candle preceded the strangers from the room.
The moment they had disappeared, the man who was sitting in the back part of the room, and who had been so affected upon their arrival, arose and left the inn.
Heedless of the driving storm, he proceeded quickly toward a drug store. Arriving there he purchased a fine white powder, and again returned to the inn.
He did not go back into the public room, but proceeding round to the back door, entered the kitchen where he seemed to be perfectly at home.
Going to the stove he sat down and appeared to be watching the servants while they prepared the strangers’ supper.
He seemed to be a favorite with the maids, with whom he laughed and joked in a familiar manner.
“Who are them new ones? Seen ’em?” at length asked one whom they called Mina, and who seemed to be queen of the kitchen.
“Strangers from over the water,” was the reply.
“Pretty grand, ain’t they? with their private rooms and supper served in them? Most folks who come here don’t feel so big but what they can eat in the room with common people.”
“Oh, well,” replied the man, “that’s the way with the bon ton, as they call them over in the United States.”