Pattinson."

"No," the girl answered quickly. "I certainly did not. But the name is
not an uncommon one. There are a good many Pattinsons in the North."

Wyllard was not surprised by this answer. He had reasons for believing
that the name under which the lad he had befriended had enrolled himself
was not the correct one. It would, of course, have been easy to describe
the boy, but Wyllard was shrewd, and noticing that there was now a
restraint in the girl's manner he could not speak prematurely. He was
aware that most of the English are characterized by a certain reserve,
and apt to retire into their shells if pressed too hard. He did not,
however, mean to let this girl elude him altogether.

"It really doesn't matter," he responded. "I shall no doubt get upon his
trail in due time."

They reached the highroad a minute or two later, and the girl turned to
him.

"Thank you again," she said. "If you go straight on you will come to the
village in about a quarter of an hour."

She turned away and left him standing with his soft hat in his hand. He
stood quite still for almost a minute after she had gone. When he
reached the inn its old-world simplicity delighted him. It was built
with thick walls of slate, and roofed with ponderous flags. In Canada,
where the frost was Arctic, they used thin cedar shingles. The room in
which his meal was spread was paneled with oak that had turned black
with age. Great rough-hewn beams of four times the size that anybody
would have used for the purpose in the West supported the low ceiling.
There was a fire in the wide hearth and the ruddy gleam of burnished
copper utensils pierced the shadows. The room was large, but there was
only a single candle upon the table. He liked the gloomy interior, and
he felt that a garish light would somehow be out of harmony.

By and by his hostess appeared to clear the things away. She was a
little, withered old woman, with shrewd, kindly eyes, and a russet tinge
in her cheeks.

"There's a good light, and company in the sitting-room," she said.
"We've three young men staying with us. They've been up the Pike."

"I'd sooner stay here, if I may," replied Wyllard. "I don't quite know
yet if I'll go on to-morrow. One can get through to Langley Dale by the
Hause, as I think you call it?"

The wrinkled dame said that pedestrians often went that way.

"There are some prosperous folks--people of station--living round here?"
Wyllard asked casually.

"T