you do not choose to set me down at the "Tregonwell Arms", I can find it for myself.'
Chandler was surprised and a little startled; muttering something apologetic, he returned the shilling, drove in silence through several intricate lanes and small streets, drew up at length before the bright windows of an inn, and called loudly for Mr. Watts.
'Is that you, Jem?' cried a hearty voice from the stableyard. 'Come in and warm yourself.'
'I only stopped here,' Mr. Chandler explained, 'to let down an old gent that wants food and lodging. Mind, I warn you agin him; he's worse nor a temperance lecturer.'
Mr. Finsbury dismounted with difficulty, for he was cramped with his long drive, and the shaking he had received in the accident. The friendly Mr. Watts, in spite of the carter's scarcely agreeable introduction, treated the old gentleman with the utmost courtesy, and led him into the back parlour, where there was a big fire burning in the grate. Presently a table was spread in the same room, and he was invited to seat himself before a stewed fowl—somewhat the worse for having seen service before—and a big pewter mug of ale from the tap.
He rose from supper a giant refreshed; and,
