There was still ten miles to walk before Arthur could reach Berrydale, and what was worse, the road wound round a mountain, so that there was an ascent of three miles before he could reach the railroad that ran through the village to which he was going. Being now encumbered with more baggage, and having money enough to indulge himself, he hired a wagon to take him to Berrydale, where he arrived just as the dinner was smoking on the table of a small inn.
Mr. Green, the landlord, knew Arthur, and of course gave him a landlord’s welcome. In a few minutes, after washing the dust from his face and hands, he was seated at the table with his host and family, and two strangers.
“And what brought you here Mr. Hazerelle?” said the landlord, good-humoredly, “I hope whatever it is, you are to stay some time with us—I presume you are on a shooting frolic.”
“My stay depends upon yourself and your neighbors, Mr. Green. I see by the papers that you are in want of a teacher, and feeling myself competent, I intend to offer myself as a candidate.”
The landlord looked at him with astonishment.—“What! you, you a country schoolmaster! why times have fallen heavily upon you I fear!—But really, if you are disposed to teach, I will answer for it you shall have the preference.”
As he said this, his eye lighted on one of his guests, and there was such an expression of malignity in the man’s face, that he started. This man had only arrived a few minutes before Arthur. He came, with two heavy, uncouth looking trunks, and two ugly looking dogs; ordered a bed-room for himself, a kennel for his dogs, and then took his seat at the table.
“I intend to offer myself as candidate too,” said this man to Arthur, “so we start fair, young man; I will set my acquirements and recommendations against yours, and then wait the issue.”
“If it depend upon letters of recommendation,” said Arthur, “you will surely succeed, for I did not bring one, and I am but slightly known to my good friend here.”
The landlord turned round and winked slyly at his wife, for the idea of such a gnarled, old hickory knot, as this man, with his spiteful eye and face, pretending to compete with Arthur was too ridiculous. Mr. Green was a landholder, and a justice of the peace, he was in high request as a politician, had money at interest, and had four children to educate.
When dinner was over, the stranger whose name was Godfried Darg, drew near to Arthur, and in a sort of snuffling voice, breathing hard through the nose between his sentences, he “begged to box the compass with him.” Arthur smiled, and said “he had no objection; he might be questioned on any subject which came within the reach of the advertisement, and perhaps something further.” So the rough man began to spout Latin. Arthur acquitted himself very well, and to the satisfaction of the other stranger, who had taken dinner with them, and who now drew near also, to listen.