however, I at once set down in my own mind for some confounded old churl
that made himself comfortable every where, without ever thinking of any
one else's convenience.

As I passed from the inn door to the coach, I once more congratulated
myself that I was about to be housed from the terrific storm of wind and
rain that railed about.

"Here's the step, sir," said the guard, "get in, sir, two minutes late
already."

"I beg your pardon, sir," said I, as I half fell over the legs of my
unseen companion. "May I request leave to pass you?" While he made way
for me for this purpose, I perceived that he stooped down towards the
guard, and said something, who from his answer had evidently been
questioned as to who I was. "And how did he get here, if he took his
place in Dublin?" asked the unknown.

"Came half an hour since, sir, in a chaise and four," said the guard, as
he banged the door behind him, and closed the interview.

Whatever might have been the reasons for my fellow-traveller's anxiety
about my name and occupation, I knew not, yet could not help feeling
gratified at thinking that as I had not given my name at the coach
office, I was a great a puzzle to him as he to me.

"A severe night, sir," said I, endeavouring to break ground in
conversation.

"Mighty severe," briefly and half crustily replied the unknown, with a