The stranger was on the point of stepping indoors, when he halted and looked up at the signboard--at the dolphin depicted there in all the hues of the rainbow, its tail lashing up spouts of imaginary water. Smiling to himself, almost as though the dolphin were an old acquaintance, he went in. Mrs. Bent courtesied low to him in the good old respectful fashion, and he returned it with a bow.
A fire was blazing in one of the parlours, and to this room the guest was conducted by both landlord and landlady. Taking off his upper coat, which was warmly slashed with dark Fur, they saw a slight, active man of some eight-and-twenty years, under the middle height, with a fresh, pleasant, handsome face, and bright dark eyes. Something in the face seemed to strike on a chord of the landlord's memory.
"Who the dickens is he like?" mentally questioned John. "Anyway, I like his looks."
"I can have a bedchamber, I suppose?" spoke the stranger; and they noticed that his English, though quite fluent as to words, had a foreign ring in it. "Will you show me to one?"
"At your service, sir; please step this way," said Mrs. Bent, in her most gracious tones, for she was habitually courteous to her guests, and was besides favourably impressed by this one's looks and manners. "Hot water directly, Molly," she called out in the direction of the kitchen; "and John, do you bring up the gentleman's luggage."
"I can't think who it is his face puts me in mind of," began John, when he and his wife got back to their room again, and she set on to make hasty work of the shrimps.
"Rubbish to his face," spoke Mrs. Bent. "The face is nice enough, if you mean that. It's late to get anything of a dinner up; and he has not said what he'll have, though I asked him."
"And look here, wife--that portmanteau is not an English one."
"It may be Dutch, for all it matters to us. Now John Bent, just you stir up that fire a bit, and put some coal on. I may have to bring a saucepan in here, for what I know."
"Tush!" said John, doing as he was bid, nevertheless. "A chop and a potato: that's as much as most of these chance travellers want."
"Not when they are from over the water. I don't forget the last foreign Frenchman that put up here. Fifteen dishes he wanted for his dinner, if he wanted one. And all of 'em dabs and messes."