Betty executed her most stately and deepest courtesy, and Yorke swept his hat gracefully to the very ground; but as she raised her eyes she said, with a mischievous glance, “I am pleased to learn the name of this gentleman.  Sir, I thank you,” and giving him a little gracious nod, Betty vanished inside the open door of the Inn.

“Verplanck,” called Geoffrey, as his friend was about to follow her, “I shall go directly back to the city, for Sir Henry has to make ready dispatches for England and will need me.  Mrs. Seymour’s coach will be brought over at once; my men are assisting the negro servant in the transit.  Do you follow me shortly?”

“Unless the ladies are too weary we will go at once, for I can obtain fresh horses here and the Inn seems somewhat over-crowded to stop the night.  But if you are in haste, Yorke, do not wait.”

“Very well, then, I will depart at once.  But you must have at least two of my men as escort for the coach and yourself.  You know there are plenty of footpads outlying the city.”

“I accept the escort gladly,” said Verplanck.  “Farewell, then, and my hearty thanks.”

Betty and Mrs. Seymour had been ushered into a small bedchamber, where they were making some slight changes of dress when Gulian Verplanck knocked at the door and informed them that the coach would shortly be ready for the continuation of their journey.  Betty followed him back into the waiting-room, where a good fire was burning, and Verplanck sought to find a seat for her near the hearth.  The room was occupied by perhaps a dozen persons, all men:  some troopers, and a group of traders whose bundles of furs, lying on the floor beside the table where they were partaking of glasses of home-brewed beer, told their occupation.  On one settle, close by the chimney, sat an old man, somewhat ragged, who had fallen asleep with his head resting against his bundle and stick, which shared the bench with him; on the other sat a slight youth dressed in homespun clothing, who instantly rose as Betty approached, and offered her his seat.

“I am warmed enough,” he said, as Verplanck gave brief thanks; “besides there is room here.  Wake up, grandfather,” and he gave the sleeping man a gentle push as he squeezed himself down beside him.

“Stay here till the coach is ready, Betty,” said Verplanck.  “Mrs. Seymour will join you presently,” and he departed to hasten the hostlers, who could be heard outside, evidently engaged in harnessing the horses they were to use.

Betty looked around her curiously.  The room, with its low ceilings, dark rafters, and sanded floor, was fairly tidy, and, in the light and shade of the shifting fire, picturesque and strange.  A short, thick-set man, evidently the host, a comfortable-looking Dutchman, bustled in and out, giving directions in a perfectly audible aside to a maid, who wore a queer straight cap and brought in trays of beer to the thirsty party of traders.  A little boy in one corner