"It can hardly be described as an ovation," he observed.
"Surly brutes," muttered Hogvardt.
"It is not the way to receive his lordship," agreed Watkins, more in sorrow than in anger. Watkins had very high ideas of the deference due to "his lordship."
The fat innkeeper walked ahead. I quickened my pace and overtook him.
"The people do not seem very pleased to see me," I remarked.
He shook his head, but made no answer. Then he stopped before a substantial house. We followed him in, and he led us up-stairs to a large room. It overlooked the street, but, somewhat to my surprise, the windows were heavily barred. The door also was massive, and had large bolts inside and out.
"You take good care of your houses, my friend," said Denny, with a laugh.
"We like to keep what we have, in Neopalia," said he.
I asked him if he would provide us with a meal, and, assenting gruffly, he left us alone. The food was some time in coming, and we stood at the window, peering through our prison bars. Our high spirits were dashed by the unfriendly reception; my island should have been more gracious, it was so beautiful.
"However, it's a better welcome than we should have got two hundred years ago," I said, with a laugh, trying to make the best of the matter.