e was checked by the horseman in the centre, who,
interposing with an air of authority, inquired in a somewhat loud but
not harsh or unpleasant voice:

'Pray, is this the London road?'

'If you follow it right, it is,' replied Hugh roughly.

'Nay, brother,' said the same person, 'you're but a churlish Englishman,
if Englishman you be--which I should much doubt but for your tongue.
Your companion, I am sure, will answer me more civilly. How say you,
friend?'

'I say it IS the London road, sir,' answered John. 'And I wish,' he
added in a subdued voice, as he turned to Hugh, 'that you was in any
other road, you vagabond. Are you tired of your life, sir, that you go
a-trying to provoke three great neck-or-nothing chaps, that could keep
on running over us, back'ards and for'ards, till we was dead, and then
take our bodies up behind 'em, and drown us ten miles off?'

'How far is it to London?' inquired the same speaker.

'Why, from here, sir,' answered John, persuasively, 'it's thirteen very
easy mile.'

The adjective was thrown in, as an inducement to the travellers to
ride away with all speed; but instead of having the desired effect, it
elicited from the same person, the remark, 'Thirteen miles! That's a
long distance!' which was followed by a short pause of indecision.

'Pray,' said the gentleman, 'are there any inns hereabouts?' At the word
'inns,' John plucked up his spirit in a surprising manner; his fears
rolled off like smoke; all the landlord stirred within him.

'There are no inns,' rejoined Mr Willet, with a strong emphasis on the
plural number; 'but there's a Inn--one Inn--the Maypole Inn. That's a
Inn indeed. You won't see the like of that Inn often.'

'You keep it, perhaps?' said the horseman, smiling.

'I do, sir,' replied John, greatly wondering how he had found this out.

'And how far is the Maypole from here?'

'About a mile'--John was going to add that it was the easiest mile in
all the world, when the third rider, who had hitherto kept a little in
the rear, suddenly interposed:

'And have you one excellent bed, landlord? Hem! A bed that you can
recommend--a bed that you are sure is well aired--a bed that has been
slept in by some perfectly respectable and unexceptionable person?'

'We don't take in no tagrag and bobtail at our house, sir,' answered
John. 'And as to the bed itself--'

'Say, as to three beds,' interposed the gentleman who had spoken before;
'for we shall want three if we