few paces into the passage, than the head of an elderly female was
seen thrust through the partially expanded doorway of the adjoining
room. Another instant, and the dusky figure of Mistress Dimock herself
was visible to our travellers.

"What would you be pleased to have, sir?" inquired the dame, with
evident distrust at this untimely approach of strangers.

"Accommodation for the night, and whatever you have good to offer a
friend, Mistress Dimock."

"Who are you that ride so late?" again interrogated the hostess; "I am
cowardly, sir, and cautious, and have reason to be careful who comes
into my house; a poor unprotected woman, good man."

"A light, mother," said Butler, "and you shall know us better. We are
travellers and want food and rest, and would have both with as little
trouble to you as possible; a light will show you an old friend."

"Wait a moment," returned the dame; and then added, as she observed
Butler walk into a room on the left, "Take care, sir, it is risking a
fall to grope in the dark in a strange house."

"The house is not so strange to me as you suppose. Unless you have moved
your furniture I can find the green settee beyond the cupboard," said
Butler, familiarly striding across the room, and throwing himself into
the old commodity he had named.

The landlady, without heeding this evidence of the conversancy of her
visitor with the localities of the little parlor, had hastily retreated,
and, in a moment afterwards, returned with a light, which, as she held
it above her head, while she peered through a pair of spectacles, threw
its full effulgence upon the face of her guest.

"Dear me, good lack!" she exclaimed, after a moment's gazing; "Arthur
Butler, o' my conscience! And is it you, Mr. Butler?" Then, putting the
candle upon the table, she seized both of his hands and gave them a long
and hearty shake. "That Nancy Dimock shouldn't know your voice, of all
others! Where have you been, and where are you going? Mercy on me! what
makes you so late? And why didn't you let me know you were coming? I
could have made you so much more comfortable. You are chilled with the
night air; and hungry, no doubt. And you look pale, poor fellow! You
surely couldn't have been at the Dove Cote?" which last interrogatory
was expressed with a look of earnest and anxious inquiry.

"No, not there," replied Butler, almost in a whisper; "alas, my kind
dame, not there," he added, with a melancholy smile, as he held