"And to think," he cried, "that you have forgone supping with a nobleman
on my account!"

"Pish, captain, 'tis no great denial. His Lordship--if Lordship he is
--is stranded in an inn, overcome with ennui, and must be amused. That is
all."

Nevertheless I think the good captain was distinctly disappointed, not
alone because I gave up what in his opinion was a great advantage, but
likewise because I could have regaled him on my return with an account of
the meal. For it must be borne in mind, my dears, that those days are
not these, nor that country this one. And in judging Captain Paul it
must be remembered that rank inspired a vast respect when King George
came to the throne. It can never be said of John Paul that he lacked
either independence or spirit. But a nobleman was a nobleman then.

So when presently the gentleman himself appeared smiling at our door,
which his servant had left open, we both of us rose up in astonishment
and bowed very respectfully, and my face burned at the thought of the
message I had sent him. For, after all, the captain was but twenty-one
and I nineteen, and the distinguished unknown at least fifty. He took a
pinch of snuff and brushed his waistcoat before he spoke.

"Egad," said he, with good nature, looking up at me, "Mohammed was a
philosopher, and so am I, and come to the mountain. 'Tis worth crossing
an inn in these times to see a young man whose strength has not been
wasted upon foppery. May I ask your name, sir?"

"Richard Carvel," I answered, much put aback.