the coach.

The landlord of the Golden Lion, who had emerged from his door, returned
an affirmative reply and at the same time ushered the travelers into a
tiny private sitting-room. As they crossed the hall, turning to the
right to enter this apartment, some one in the room opposite, a more
public place, who had been furtively peering through the half-opened
door to observe the new-comers, at sight of John Steele drew quickly
back. Not, however, before that gentleman had caught a glimpse of him. A
strange face, indeed,--but the fellow's manner--his expression--the act
itself somehow struck the observer,--unduly, no doubt, and yet--A moment
later this door closed, and from beyond came only a murmur of men's
voices over pots.

"Trap will be in front directly, Sir Charles," said the landlord
lingering. "Meanwhile if there is anything--"

"Nothing, thank you! Only a short distance to Strathorn House," he
explained to John Steele, "and I fancy we'll do better by waiting for
what we may require there. But what is the latest news at Strathorn?
Anything happened? Business quiet?"

"It 'asn't been so brisk, and it 'asn't been so dull, your Lordship,
what with now and then a gentleman from London!"

"From London? Isn't that rather unusual?"

"Somewhat. But as for your lordship's first question, I don't know of
any news, except Squire Thompson told me to inform your lordship he
would have the three hunters he was telling your lordship about, down at