this he replenished the
fire. Then he drew the massive oaken bedstead in front of the door,
and lounged upon it, smoking and meditating.

The warnings of the valet had produced this effect at least upon
Obed, that he had concluded not to go to sleep. He determined to
remain awake, and though such watchfulness might not be needed, yet
he felt that for his family's sake it was wisest and best. To sit up
one night, or rather to lounge on a bed smoking, was nothing, and
there was plenty of occupation for his thoughts.

Time passed on. Midnight came, and nothing had occurred. Another hour
passed; and then another. It was two o'clock.

About a quarter of an hour after this Obed was roused by a sudden
knocking at the door of the inn. Shouts followed. He heard the old
man descend the stairs. Then the door was opened, and loud noisy
footsteps were heard entering the inn.

At this Obed began to feel that his watchfulness was not useless.

Some time now elapsed. Those who had come were sufficiently
disorderly. Shouts and cries and yells arose. Obed imagined that they
were refreshing themselves. He tried to guess at the possible number,
and thought that there could not be more than a dozen, if so many.
Yet he had acquired such a contempt for Italians, and had such
confidence in himself, that he felt very much the same, at the
prospect of an encounter with them, as a grown man might feel at an
encounter with as many boys.

During this time he made no change in his position. His revolver was
in his breast pocket, and he had cartridges enough for a long siege.
He smoked still, for this habit was a deeply confirmed one with Obed;
and lolling at the foot of the bed, with his head against the wall,
he awaited further developments.

At last there was a change in the noise. A silence followed; and then
he heard footsteps moving toward the hall. He listened. The footsteps
ascended the stairs!

They ascended the stairs, and came nearer and nearer. There did not
seem to be so many as a dozen. Perhaps some remained below. Such were
his thoughts.

They came toward his room.

At length he heard the knob of the door turning gently. Of course, as
the door was locked, and as the bed was in front of it, this produced
no effect. On Obed the only effect was that he sat upright and drew
his revolver from his pocket, still smoking.

Then followed some conversation outside.

Then there came a knock.

"Who's there?" said Obed, mildly.