"When I am at home--yes; but I have knocked about the world so much that I can stand a little discomfort. How is the bed?"
He felt of the mattress, and found that it was of straw. Had there been a feather bed over it there would have been greater comfort.
"Only a straw bed," he said. "This is, certainly, Spartan simplicity. I don't think Red Ralph would be a success as an innkeeper."
"I think I can sleep, Mr. Grant," rejoined Scott. "I feel quite tired."
"Yes," he reported, "there is a lock, but no key."
"I wonder," said the earl, very thoughtfully, "whether the key has been lost or intentionally removed?"
"No. That would make it evident that we were distrustful. Besides, it may be that the people below are not aware that there is no means of locking them out. On the whole, we will not call attention to our defenseless condition."
While they were talking, a step was heard on the stairs--a heavy step, too heavy for the woman. Then came a knock at the door.
There stood Red Ralph, holding in his hand a pitcher and glass.
"I have brought you a nightcap," he said. "I had my wife mix some whisky and water. It is good for the stomach. I drink some every night before I go to bed."
"Thank you," returned the earl, politely. "You are very considerate."
He took the pitcher and set it down on the table. Red Ralph lingered a moment, and his eyes wandered about the apartment.
There was nothing to see, however, as the travelers had brought no luggage with them, not expecting to be detained overnight.
"I hope that you will be comfortable," he said, cordially.
"Oh, I never wake from the time I strike the bed. At what hour shall I wake you?"
"Good! I will tell the wife to have breakfast at half-past seven."
"By the way, may I trouble you to look after my horse? I meant to go out to the barn before I retired."
"I will look after him. I am used to horses. I am a horse trader."
"Our friend is unusually attentive," said the earl, with a glance at the pitcher.
"Perhaps, but I am not sure. Scott, will you hold the candle?"
He took the pitcher and peered into it attentively, rather to Scott's surprise. Then he poured out a small quantity, and tasted it.
"I hope you will excuse me from drinking, Mr. Grant," said Scott. "I promised my father I would never drink whisky."