Having barred the door, Tom turned back to the hearth. "It is a bad night, sir."
"But yes," exclaimed the Marquis. "I think I perish. Oh! that dreary tavern at your Monday Port. I think when I arrive there I prefer to perish. But this, this is the old Inn at the Red Oak, is it not? And it dates, yes,--from the year 1693? The old inn, eh, by the great tree?"
"Yes, certainly," Pembroke answered; "at least, that is the date that some people claim is on the old cornerstone. You have been here before then, sir?"
"I?" exclaimed Monsieur de Boisdhyver. "Oh, no! not I. I have heard from my friend who was here some years ago."
"Oh, I see. And you have come far to-day?"
"Pembroke," Tom replied, with a little start.
"Ah! yes, Monsieur Pembroke. A member of the household?"
"I make a mistake," quickly interposed the traveller, "Pardon. I am come from Coventry, Monsieur Pembroke, in an everlasting an eternal stage, a monster of a carriage, monsieur. It is only a few days since that I arrive from France."
"Ah, France!" exclaimed Tom, recalling that only a little while before he and Dan had been dreaming of that magic country. And here was a person who actually lived in France, who had just come from there, who extraordinarily chose to leave that delightful land for the Inn at the Red Oak in mid-winter.
"France," he repeated; "all my life, sir, I have been longing to go there."
"So?" said the Marquis, raising his white eyebrows with interest. "You love _ma belle patrie_, eh? _Qui Sait_?--you will perhaps some day go there. You have interests, friends in my country?"
"No, none," Tom answered. "I wish I had. You come from Paris, sir?"
For some time they chatted in such fashion, the Marquis answering Tom's many questions with characteristic French politeness, but turning ever and anon a pathetic glance toward the door through which Dan and Nancy had disappeared. It was with undisguised satisfaction that he greeted young Frost when he returned to announce that supper was ready.
"I famish!" the old gentleman exclaimed. "I have dined to-day on a biscuit and a glass of water."
They found the kitchen table amply spread with food,--cold meats, hot eggs and coffee, and a bottle of port. Monsieur de Boisdhyver ate heartily and drank his wine with relish, gracefully toasting Nancy as he did so. When his meal was finished, he begged with many excuses to be shown to his bedroom; and indeed his fatigue was evident. Dan saw him to the great south chamber, carrying a pair of lighted candles before. He made sure that all had been done that sulky sleepy maids could be induced to do, and then left him to make ready for the night.