of the fidgets.

Dinner-time came. I hoped, the stout gentleman might dine in the
travellers'-room, and that I might at length get a view of his person;
but no--he had dinner served in his own room. What could be the
meaning of this solitude and mystery? He could not be a radical; there
was something too aristocratical in thus keeping himself apart from
the rest of the world, and condemning himself to his own dull company
throughout a rainy day. And then, too, he lived too well for a
discontented politician. He seemed to expatiate on a variety of
dishes, and to sit over his wine like a jolly friend of good living.
Indeed, my doubts on this head were soon at an end; for he could not
have finished his first bottle before I could faintly hear him humming
a tune; and on listening, I found it to be "God save the King." 'Twas
plain, then, he was no radical, but a faithful subject; one that grew
loyal over his bottle, and was ready to stand by king and
constitution, when he could stand by nothing else. But who could he
be? My conjectures began to run wild. Was he not some personage of
distinction, traveling incog.? "God knows!" said I, at my wit's end;
"it may be one of the royal family for aught I know, for they are all
stout gentlemen!"

The weather continued rainy. The mysterious unknown kept his room,
and, as far as I could judge, his chair, for I did not hear him move.
In the meantime, as the day advanced, the travellers'-room began to be
frequented. Some, who had just arrived, came in buttoned up in
box-coats; others came home, who had been dispersed about the town.
Some took their dinners, and some their tea. Had I been in a different
mood, I should have found entertainment in studying this peculiar
class of men. There were two especially, who were regular wags of the
road, and up to all the standing jokes of travellers. They had a
thousand sly things to say to the waiting-maid, whom they called
Louisa, and Ethelinda, and a dozen other fine names, changing the name
every time, and chuckling amazingly at their own waggery. My mind,
however, had become completely engrossed by the stout gentleman. He
had kept my fancy in chase during a long day, and it was not now to be
diverted from the scent.

The evening gradually wore away. The travellers read the papers two or
three times over. Some drew round the fire, and told long stories
about their horses, about their adventures, their overturns, and
breakings down. They dis