but he curbed his irritation, and inquired as politely as he could if a
horse or any kind of vehicle could be hired in the village.

The three persons in the window nodded to one another significantly, and
began smiling in a constrained manner, as if there were something quite
preposterous in the inquiry. The man, a corpulent, red-faced person,
seemed on the point of suffocating with merriment.

"Is this a public house?" demanded Lynde severely.

"That's as may be," answered the man, recovering his breath, and
becoming grave.

"Are you the proprietor?"

"That's jest what I am."

"Then I require of you the accommodation which is the right of every
traveller. Your license does not permit you to turn any respectable
stranger from your door."

"Now, my advice to you," said the man, stepping back from the window,
"my advice to you is to trot. You can't get in here. If you try to, I'll
pepper you as sure as you live, though I wouldn't like to do it. So trot
right along!"

The man had a gun in his hands; he clutched it nervously by the stock;
his countenance worked strangely, and his small, greenish eyes had a
terrified, defiant expression. Indisputably, the tavern-keeper looked
upon Lynde as a dangerous person, and was ready to fire upon him if he