In the midst of the bustle and noise I saw that mingled with the countryfolk were several soldiers, while in a corner of the courtyard was a ponderous coach, which, if I mistook not, was the very one that passed me yesternight at Rake Hill.
It was but ten in the morning, and the two occupants of the coach had not yet appeared. Apparently an accident had befallen the conveyance, for a smith was busily engaged with hammer and cold chisel in repairing one of the wheels.
Notwithstanding their Puritanical garb, most of the troopers had, even at this early hour, partaken of spirituous drinks, and, judging by their gestures and talk, were evidently anticipating the restoration of His Majesty King Charles.
Perceiving a serving maid at one of the windows, one of the soldiers began to make love to her in dumb show, kissing his hand and waving his iron headpiece to the damsel, who seemed nothing loath to accept his advances.
Presently she opened the casement, and, leaning out, threw him a flower. Few women can throw straight, and this one was no exception. Her missile flew far above the man's head, and, running backwards in a vain endeavour to catch it, he fell heavily into a large trough of pigs' mash, where, half-stunned by the force of his fall, he lay wallowing in the sticky mess, till he was helped out by his comrades, to the accompaniment of their jeers and laughter.
Having carried all my belongings into the inn, the old carter bade me farewell; and as the sound of his footsteps was lost in the outside din, I felt as if the last link that bound me to the home of my childhood was severed.
The host of the "Red Lion", an old soldier by appearance, came in and asked me what I lacked. I told him I was waiting for the chapman who travelled between Winton, Petersfield, and Portsmouth, and at the same time ordered a meal, for the morning ride had made me hungry.
The landlord hurried off, for callers were many that morning, and whilst I was waiting I took stock of the room. It was panelled, and had thick oak rafters and low ceiling. Though the weather was warm, a large fire blazed on the hearth, while the wall above the chimney corner was hung with an assortment of old weapons.
There were three other occupants of the room, two of whom sat in the chimney corner, leaning over the fire as if it were a winter's day, while the third was spread out on the settle, gazing stolidly at his companions. They had evidently been engaged in deep conversation, but on my arrival they stopped talking and eyed me with no goodwill.
All three were villainous-looking men, dark-skinned and heavy-browed. One had a livid weal across his cheek, while another was deeply pitted with smallpox. The third had his face nearly concealed in a dark beard that grew so high on his cheek as almost to meet his eyebrows. Their clothes were old and ragged; their belongings were limited to a small bundle that was placed by each man's side. Three large tankards, lying upset on the floor, showed that their refreshment had been copious, while the reek of strong spirits hung around them like an invisible cloud.