The traveller, coming on at a moderate pace, alighted, and gave his horse
to the ragged hostler. He then advanced towards the door near which Hugh
was seated, whose agitation was manifested by no perceptible sign, except
by the shorter and more frequent puffs with which he plied his pipe. Their
eyes did not meet till just as the stranger was about to enter, when he
started apparently with a surprise and alarm similar to those of Hugh
Crombie. He recovered himself, however, sufficiently to return the nod of
recognition with which he was favored, and immediately entered the house,
the landlord following.

"This way, if you please, sir," said Hugh. "You will find this apartment
cool and retired."

He ushered his guest into a small room the windows of which were darkened
by the creeping plants that clustered round them. Entering, and closing
the door, the two gazed at each other a little space without speaking. The
traveller first broke silence.

"Then this is your living self, Hugh Crombie?" he said. The landlord
extended his hand as a practical reply to the question. The stranger took
it, though with no especial appearance of cordiality.

"Ay, this seems to be flesh and blood," he said, in the tone of one who
would willingly have found it otherwise. "And how happens this, friend
Hugh? I little thought to meet you again in this life. When I last heard
from you, your prayers were said, and you were bound for a better world."

"There would have been small danger of your meeting me there," observed
the landlord, dryly.