"You make a mistake, my good friend," said Ralph, while Hortensia's face glowed with painful crimson. "I am not this lady's husband, but merely protecting her on her journey in these dangerous times."
"Well, sir, I hope you soon may be," said the pertinacious host. "You couldn't have a better, nor she either, for that matter, I'm sure--Good gracious! the lady's crying--Dear me, madam, I'm very sorry--I beg pardon a thousand times--I'm a foolish old man and must chatter."
"Never mind, never mind, my good man," replied Hortensia, drying her eyes. "It is I who am foolish; but I have been subject to much fatigue and anxiety to-day. We had very nearly fallen in with a band of these lawless soldiers who are about, and I was obliged to leave my carriage on the road, broken down, and ride on under this kind friend's protection."
"Oh, well, if that is all, he can have the bed-room just opposite, where he can come to you in a moment if you want him," said the host, and again Hortensia's face glowed like a rose.
"If I stay the night, I may need that for my maid," she replied; "the girl will come on as soon as possible. I dare say you can find him a room somewhere else."
"I have none so good," said the landlord. "Twenty-five is rather damp, and number seven--"
"Never mind, never mind," said Ralph, "any one will do for me. These must be for the Lady Hortensia and her maid--Now go and hurry dinner as fast as possible."
The old man turned toward the door, but stopped suddenly, and looked round with a bright expression, as if a good thought struck him,
"Won't it be better," he said, "to have a bed put into my lady's room for the maid?"
"Exactly--exactly," said Ralph; "that will do very well."
"Capital--capital," cried the old landlord, snapping his fingers with an air of triumph; "that hits it exactly; then you can have the opposite room, and comfort them both if they should need it."
Ralph could bear no more, and burst into a fit of laughter, in which, to say sooth, Hortensia joined, although she was not very sure whether she should laugh or weep again.
The old man looked in some surprise, and left the room with a somewhat sheepish air.
As soon as he was gone, Hortensia raised her eyes to Ralph's face with an expression of much anxiety, rendered almost whimsical by the faint glow of merriment that still lingered like sunset round their lips. "This will not do, Ralph," she said, in a timid tone; "I hope my people will come and join us soon; but I must not--I fear I must not travel with you alone, though God knows, and you know, that our feelings toward each other would not shrink from the scrutiny of all the world."