To a young fellow of Arthur's temperament, the novelty of being turned away into the street like a penniless vagabond, at every house where he asked for a lodging, presented itself in the light of a new and highly amusing piece of experience.He went on with his carpet-bag in his hand, applying for a bed at every place of entertainment for travelers that he could find in Doncaster, until he wandered into the outskirts of the town.
By this time the last glimmer of twilight had faded out, the moon was rising dimly in a mist, the wind was getting cold, the clouds were gathering heavily, and there was every prospect that it was soon going to rain!
The look of the night had rather a lowering effect on young Holliday's spirits.He began to contemplate the houseless situation in which he was placed from the serious rather than the humorous point of view, and he looked about him for another public house to inquire at with something very like downright anxiety in his mind on the subject of a lodging for the night.
The suburban part of the town toward which he had now strayed was hardly lighted at all, and he could see nothing of the houses as he passed them, except that they got progressively smaller and dirtier the further he went.Down the winding road before him shone the dull gleam of an oil lamp, the one faint lonely light that struggled ineffectually with the foggy darkness all round him.He resolved to go on as far as this lamp, and then, if it showed him nothing in the shape of an inn, to return to the central part of the town, and to try if he could not at least secure a chair to sit down on through the night at one of the principal hotels.
As he got near the lamp he heard voices, and, walking close under it, found that it lighted the entrance to a narrow court, on the wall of which was painted a long hand in faded flesh-color, pointing, with a lean forefinger, to this inscription:
THE TWO ROBINS.
Arthur turned into the court without hesitation to see what The Two Robins could do for him.Four or five men were standing together round the door of the house, which was at the bottom of the court, facing the entrance from the street.The men were all listening to one other man, better dressed than the rest, who was telling his audience something, in a low voice, in which they were apparently very much interested.
On entering the passage, Arthur was passed by a stranger with a knapsack in his hand, who was evidently leaving the house.
"No," said the traveler with the knapsack, turning round and addressing himself cheerfully to a fat, sly-looking, bald-headed man, with a dirty white apron on, who had followed him down the passage, "no, Mr.Landlord, I am not easily scared by trifles;but I don't mind confessing that I can't quite stand _that_."It occurred to young Holliday, the moment he heard these words, that the stranger had been asked an exorbitant price for a bed at The Two Robins, and that he was unable or unwilling to pay it.
The moment his back was turned, Arthur, comfortably conscious of his own well-filled pockets, addressed himself in a great hurry, for fear any other benighted traveler should slip in and forestall him, to the sly-looking landlord with the dirty apron and the bald head.
"If you have got a bed to let," he said, "and if that gentleman who has just gone out won't pay your price for it, I will."The sly landlord looked hard at Arthur."Will you, sir?" he asked, in a meditative, doubtful way.
"Name your price," said young Holliday, thinking that the landlord's hesitation sprang from some boorish distrust of him.
"Name your price, and I'll give you the money at once, if you like.""Are you game for five shillings?" inquired the landlord, rubbing his stubby double chin and looking up thoughtfully at the ceiling above him.
Arthur nearly laughed in the man's face; but, thinking it prudent to control himself, offered the five shillings as seriously as he could.The sly landlord held out his hand, then suddenly drew it back again.
"You're acting all fair and aboveboard by me," he said, "and, before I take your money, I'll do the same by you.Look here;this is how it stands.You can have a bed all to yourself for five shillings, but you can't have more than a half share of the room it stands in.Do you see what I mean, young gentleman?""Of course I do," returned Arthur, a little irritably."You mean that it is a double-bedded room, and that one of the beds is occupied?"The land lord nodded his head, and rubbed his double chin harder than ever.Arthur hesitated, and mechanically moved back a step or two toward the door.The idea of sleeping in the same room with a total stranger did not present an attractive prospect to him.He felt more than half inclined to drop his five shillings into his pocket and to go out into the street once more.
"Is it yes or no?" asked the landlord."Settle it as quick as you can, because there's lots of people wanting a bed at Doncaster to-night besides you."Arthur looked toward the court and heard the rain falling heavily in the street outside.He thought he would ask a question or two before he rashly decided on leaving the shelter of The Two Robins.
"What sort of man is it who has got the other bed?" he inquired.
"Is he a gentleman? I mean, is he a quiet, well-behaved person?""The quietest man I ever came across," said the landlord, rubbing his fat hands stealthily one over the other."As sober as a judge, and as regular as clock-work in his habits.It hasn't struck nine, not ten minutes ago, and he's in his bed already.Idon't know whether that comes up to your notion of a quiet man:
it goes a long way ahead of mine, I can tell you.""Is he asleep, do you think?" asked Arthur.
"I know he's asleep," returned the landlord; "and, what's more, he's gone off so fast that I'll warrant you don't wake him.This way, sir," said the landlord, speaking over young Holliday's shoulder, as if he was addressing some new guest who was approaching the house.