"
"Evidently!" said I, then uttered an exclamation as Wildfire tripped
and off spun his near foreshoe.
"Curse and confound it!" exclaimed Anthony ruefully. "And no smith
nearer than five miles!"
"That being so," quoth I, dismounting, "confound and curse it with all
my heart."
"There's the 'Soaring Lark' not half a mile away--a small inn, kept by
a friend of mine."
"And a ridiculous name for any inn!" said I.
"Wait till you see it, Perry."
So saying, Anthony turned aside down an unexpected and rutted by-lane,
I leading my horse; and, rounding a sharp bend in this narrow track,
we came upon a small inn. It stood well back amid the green and was
further shaded by three great trees; and surely the prettiest,
brightest, cosiest little inn that the eye of wearied traveller might
behold. Its twinkling lattices open to the sunny air showed a vision
of homely comfort within; its hospitable door gaped wide upon an
inviting chamber floored with red tile, and before it stood a tall,
youngish man in shirtsleeves with the brightest eyes, the cheeriest
smile and the blackest whiskers I had ever seen.
"O Mary, lass!" he cried, "Mr. Anthony!" And then, as he hurried
forward to take our horses: "Why, Lord, Mr. Anthony, sir, we du be
tur'ble glad to see 'ee--eh, old lady?" This last to her who had
hurried to his call--a youngish woman, as bright, as cosy, as cheery,
but far prettier than the inn itself.
"Oh, but indeed we be j'yful to see 'ee, Mr.
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