By this time the arrival of a second pair of travellers hard on the
heels of the first had roused the inn to full activity. Half-dressed
servants flitted this way and that through the narrow passages, setting
night-caps in the chambers, or bringing up clean snuffers and snuff
trays. One was away to the buttery, to draw ale for the driver, another
to the kitchen with William's orders to the cook. Lights began to shine
in the hall and behind the diamond panes of the low-browed windows; a
pleasant hum, a subdued bustle, filled the hospitable house.
On entering the Yarmouth, however, the landlord was surprised to find
only the clergyman awaiting him. Mr. Pomeroy, irritated by his long
absence, had gone to the stables to learn what he could from the
postboy. The landlord was nearer indeed than he knew to finding no one;
for when he entered, Mr. Thomasson, unable to suppress his fears, was on
his feet; another ten seconds, and the tutor would have fled
panic-stricken from the house.
The host did not suspect this, but Mr. Thomasson thought he did; and the
thought added to his confusion. 'I--I was coming to ask what had
happened to you,' he stammered. 'You will understand, I am very anxious
to get news.' 'To be sure, sir,' the landlord answered comfortably. 'Will you step
this way, and I think we shall be able to ascertain something
for certain?' But the tutor did not like his tone; moreover, he felt safer in the
room than in the public hall. He shrank back. 'I--I think I will wait
here until Mr. Pomeroy returns,' he said.
The landlord raised his eyebrows. 'I thought you were anxious, sir,' he
retorted, 'to get news?' 'So I am, very anxious!' Mr. Thomasson replied, with a touch of the
stiffness that marked his manner to those below him. 'Still, I think I
had better wait here. Or, no, no!' he cried, afraid to stand out, 'I
will come with you. But, you see, if she is not here, I am anxious to go
in search of her as quickly as possible, where--wherever she is.' 'To be sure, that is natural,' the landlord answered, holding the door
open that the clergyman might pass out, 'seeing that you are her father,
sir. I think you said you were her father?' he continued, as Mr.
Thomasson, with a scared look round the hall, emerged from the room.
'Ye--yes,' the tutor faltered; and wished himself in the street. 'At
least--I am her step-father.' 'Oh, her step-father!' 'Yes,' Mr. Thomasson answered, faintly. How he cursed the folly that had
put him in this false position! How much more strongly he would have
cursed it, had he known what it was cast that dark shadow, as of a
lurking man, on the upper part of the stairs!