’I’m afraid I shall have to put it off to another day, was his remark to the landlord’s daughter.  ‘Mr. Four-acres is—­rather drowsy.’

‘Ah, sir!’ sighed the young woman.  ’I’m sorry to say he’s often been like that lately.’

Their eyes met, but only for an instant.  Mr. Ruddiman looked and felt uncomfortable.

‘I’ll come again very soon, Miss Fouracres,’ he said.  ’You might just speak to your father about the room.’

‘Thank you, sir.  I will, sir.’

And, with another uneasy glance, which was not returned, the under-master went his way.  Descending towards Longmeadows, he thought over the innkeeper’s story, which may be briefly related.  Some ten years before this Mr. Fouracres occupied a very comfortable position; he was landlord of a flourishing inn—­called an hotel—­in a little town of some importance as an agricultural centre, and seemed perfectly content with the life and the society natural to a man so circumstanced.  His manners were marked by a certain touch of pompousness, and he liked to dwell upon the excellence of the entertainment which his house afforded, but these were innocent characteristics which did not interfere with his reputation as a sensible and sound man of business.  It happened one day that two gentlemen on horseback, evidently riding for their pleasure, stopped at the inn door, and, after a few inquiries, announced that they would alight and have lunch.  Mr. Fouracres—­who himself received these gentlemen—­regarded one of them with much curiosity, and presently came to the startling conclusion that he was about to entertain no less a person than the Heir Apparent.  He knew that the Prince was then staying at a great house some ten miles away, and there could be no doubt that one of his guests had a strong resemblance to the familiar portraits of His Royal Highness.  In his excitement at the supposed discovery, Mr. Fouracres at once communicated it to those about him, and in a very few minutes half the town had heard the news.  Of course the host would allow no one but himself to wait at the royal table—­which was spread in the inn’s best room, guarded against all intrusion.  In vain, however, did he listen for a word from either of the gentlemen which might confirm his belief; in their conversation no name or title was used, and no mention made of anything significant.  They remained for an hour.  When their horses were brought round for them a considerable crowd had gathered before the hotel, and the visitors departed amid a demonstration of exuberant loyalty.  On the following day, one or two persons who had been present at this scene declared that the two gentlemen showed surprise, and that, though both raised their hats in acknowledgment of the attention they received, they rode away laughing.