Old Bartlemy, however, paid no attention to who came in or who went
out. His sole concern was to find Humphrey. Not succeeding, he appealed
to the innkeeper to know what was become of him.
"Why, that I know not," replied the innkeeper, indifferently. "Most
like he hath not yet returned from the fire."
Impatiently old Bartlemy, forgetting that he was a woman, and nurse to
a young lady of the better sort, sat down in the inn yard upon a bench.
And ever and anon as no Humphrey appeared he got up and mingled with
the knots of other men standing about, only to return to his seat.
Finally he could restrain himself no longer, but eagerly began to
inquire of all newcomers as to the whereabouts of Humphrey. Now while
his were questions which no man could answer, they were put in such a
manner as to make men stare curiously upon him. For they were such
questions as one man would ask of another, and not the timid inquiries
of an ignorant old woman. Finally, one of the bystanders more daring
than the rest advanced, and boldly turned back the hood of the head-rail,
letting it hang down over his shoulders, and the head of an old
man was revealed.
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