“His disappearance was the signal for fresh alarm in the minds of those left behind.  Not a word was said till the return of the innkeeper, who in a short time descended from the bedroom overhead, to which he had conducted his guest.  On re-entering the kitchen, he was encountered by a volley of interrogations.  The parson, the schoolmaster, the exciseman, and his own wife, questioned him over and over again.  ’Who was the Man in Red?—­he must have seen him before—­he must have heard of him—­in a word, he must know something about him.’  The host protested ’that he never beheld the stranger till that hour:  it was the first time he had made his appearance at the Black Swan, and so help him God, it should be the last!’ ‘Why don’t you turn him out?’ exclaimed the exciseman.  ’If you think you are able to do it, you are heartily welcome,’ replied the landlord; ’for my part, I have no notion of coming to close quarters with the shank of his whip, or his great, red, sledge hammer fist.’

“This was an irresistible argument, and the proposer of forcible ejectment said no more upon the subject.  At this time the party could hear the noise of heavy footsteps above them.  They were those of the Red Man, and sounded with slow and measured tread.  They listened for a quarter of an hour longer, in expectation that they would cease.  There was no pause:  the steps continued, and seemed to indicate that the person was amusing himself by walking up and down the room.  It would be impossible to describe the multiplicity of feelings which agitated the minds of the company.  Fear, surprise, anger, and curiosity, ruled them by turns and kept them incessantly upon the rack.  There was something mysterious in the visiter who had just left them—­something which they could not fathom—­something unaccountable.  ‘Who could he be?’ This was the question that each put to the other, but no one could give any thing like a rational answer.  Meanwhile the evening wore on apace, and though the bell of the parish church hard by sounded the tenth hour, no one seemed inclined to take the hint to depart.  Even the parson heard it without regard, to such a pitch was his curiosity excited.  About this time also the sky, which had hitherto been tolerably clear, began to be overclouded.  Distant peals of thunder were heard; and thick sultry drops of rain pattered at intervals against the casement of the inn:  every thing seemed to indicate a tempestuous evening.  But the storm which threatened to rage without was unnoticed.—­Though the drops fell heavily; though gleams of lightning flashed by, followed by the report of distant thunder, and the winds began to hiss and whistle among the trees of the neighbouring cemetery, yet all these external signs of elementary tumult were as nothing to the deep, solemn footsteps of the Red Man.  There seemed to be no end to his walking.  An hour had he paced up and down the chamber without the least interval of repose, and he was still engaged in this