"
Harry at once agreed, and, taking their hats, they started.
They did not hurry themselves, and, carefully avoiding all mention
of the subject that had occupied their thoughts for weeks, they
chatted over their last campaign, their friends in the Swedish
camp, and the course that affairs were likely to take. After four
hours' walking they came to a small wayside inn, standing back
twenty or thirty yards from the road.
"It is a quiet-looking little place," Charlie said, "and does but a
small trade, I should say. However, no doubt they can give us some
bread and cheese, and a mug of ale, which will last us well enough
till we get back to Barnet."
The landlord placed what they demanded before them, and then left
the room again, replying by a short word or two to their remarks on
the weather.
"A surly ill-conditioned sort of fellow," Harry said.
"It may be, Harry, that badness of trade has spoiled his temper.
However, so long as his beer is good, it matters little about his
mood."
They had finished their bread and cheese, and were sitting idly,
being in no hurry to start on their way back, when a man on
horseback turned off from the road and came up the narrow lane in
which the house stood. As Charlie, who was facing that way, looked
at him he started, and grasped Harry's arm.
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