
house, and wearing a hat flapped over his face, which was still further shaded
by the hand on which his forehead rested, looked unsociable enough.
    There was another guest, who sat, booted and spurred, at some distance from
the fire also, and whose thoughts - to judge from his folded arms and knitted
brows, and from the untasted liquor before him - were occupied with other
matters than the topics under discussion or the persons who discussed them. This
was a young man of about eight-and-twenty, rather above the middle height, and
though of a somewhat slight figure, gracefully and strongly made. He wore his
own dark hair, and was accoutred in a riding-dress, which together with his
large boots (resembling in shape and fashion those worn by our Life Guardsmen at
the present day), showed indisputable traces of the bad condition of the roads.
But travel-stained though he was, he was well and even richly attired, and
without being over-dressed looked a gallant gentleman.
    Lying upon the table beside him, as he had carelessly thrown them down, were
a heavy riding-whip and a slouched hat, the latter worn no doubt as being best
suited to the inclemency of the weather. There, too, were a pair of pistols in a
holster-case, and a short riding-cloak. Little of his face was visible, except
the long dark lashes which concealed his downcast eyes, but an air of careless
ease and natural gracefulness of demeanour pervaded the figure, and seemed to
comprehend even those slight accessories, which were all handsome, and in good
keeping.
    Towards this young gentleman the eyes of Mr. Willet wandered but once, and
then as if in mute inquiry whether he had observed his silent neighbour. It was
plain that John and the young gentleman had often met before. Finding that his
look was not returned, or indeed observed by the person to whom it was
addressed, John gradually concentrated the whole power of his eyes into one
focus, and brought it to bear upon the man in the flapped hat, at whom he came
to stare in course of time with an intensity so remarkable, that it affected his
fireside cronies, who all, as with one accord, took their pipes from their lips,
and stared with open mouths at the stranger likewise.
    The sturdy landlord had a large pair of dull fish-like eyes, and the little
man who had hazarded the remark about the moon (and who was the parish-clerk and
bell-ringer of Chigwell; a village hard by) had little round
