"Meaning?"

"This 'ere bolt."

"Are you the landlord, then?"

"I be; and if you feel inclined for a mug o' good ale say the

word."

"Most willingly," said I, "but what of the axle?"

"Plenty o' time for th' axle," nodded the landlord, and setting

down his hammer upon a bench hard by, he led the way into the

tap. The ale was very strong and good; indeed this lovely county

of Kent is justly famous for such. Finding myself very hungry,

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the landlord forthwith produced a mighty round of beef, upon

which we both fell to, and ate with a will. Which done, I pulled

out my negro-head pipe, and the landlord fetching himself

another, we sat awhile smoking. And presently, learning I was

from London, he began plying me with all manner of questions

concerning the great city, of which it seemed he could not hear

enough, and I, to describe its wonders as well as I might. At

length, bethinking him of his axle, he rose with a sigh. Upon my

requesting to be shown my room, he lighted a candle, and led the

way up a somewhat rickety stair, along a narrow passage, and

throwing open a door at the end, I found myself in a fair-sized

chamber with a decent white bed, which he introduced to my notice

by the one word, feathers." Hereupon he pinched off the snuff of

the candle with an expression of ponderous thought.

"And so the Tower o' London ain't a tower?" he inquired at last.

"No," I answered; "it is composed of several towers surrounded by

very strong, battlemented walls."

"Ah--to--be--sure," said he, "ah, to be sure! And me 'ave allus

thought on it like it was a great big tower standin' in the midst

o' the city, as 'igh as a mountain. Humph--not a tower--ha!

disapp'inted I be. Humph! Good night, master. Disapp'inted I

be--yes." And having nodded his head ponderously several times,

he turned and went ponderously along the passage and down the

stair.

At the end of my chamber was a long, low casement, and, drawn

thither by the beauty of the night, I flung open the lattice and

leaned out. I looked down upon a narrow, deeply-rutted lane, one

of those winding, inconsequent byways which it seems out of all

possibility can ever lead the traveler anywhere, and I was idly

wondering what fool had troubled to build a tavern in such a

remote, out-of-the-way spot, when my ears were saluted by the

sound of voices. Now, immediately beneath my window there was a

heavy porch, low and squat, from which jutted a beam with a

broken sign-board, and it was from beneath this porch that the

voices proceeded, the one loud and hectoring, the other gruff and

sullen. I was about to turn away when a man stepped out into the

moonlight. His face was hidden in the shadow of his hat-brim,

but from his general air and appearance I judged him to be one of

the gentlemen whose chaise had broken down. As I watched him he

walked slowly round the angle of the house and disappeared. In a

little while, I drew in my head from the casement, and, having

removed my dusty boots, together with my knapsack and coat, blew

out the candle, and composed myself to sleep.




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