He looked down with a sharp glance, but the boy’s expression was serious, even melancholy. “Ever been in this town before?” “No.” “Did Mr. Judd know you was comin’?” “No.” “Then what in thunder made you s’pose he was in Deacon Barlow’s?” “In thunder?” “What made you think he was in that house?” The boy looked off over the landscape and hesitated before answering. “I knew he was to be there.” “Oh, then he expected you?” “No.” Joe laughed. “That’s sort of mixed, ain’t it? Mr. Judd was there to meet you when he didn’t know you were comin’. Kinder met you by appointment when there wasn’t any.” This was said in a sarcastic manner, and he added: “You was pretty sot on stoppin’ and I’d like to know how you come to be so pop sure he was inside.” The dark eyes looked up at him in gentle astonishment. This gave way to a gleam of anger, as they detected a mocking expression, and the lips parted as if to speak. But there seemed to be a change of mind, for he said nothing, looking away toward the distant hills in contemptuous silence. The driver, as a free and independent American, was irritated by this attempted superiority in a foreigner, and especially in such a young one, but there was no time to retaliate. Mrs. Judd, a large, sandy-haired, strong-featured woman, gave the guests a cordial welcome. The outlandish trunks found their way upstairs, instructions were given the driver to call in an hour, and Mrs. Judd, with the servant, hastened preparations for a dinner, as the travellers, she learned, had eaten nothing since early morning. When these were going on Mr. Judd and the three guests went into the parlor, which, like many others in New England, was a triumph of severity. Although fanatically clean, it possessed the usual stuffy smell that is inevitable where fresh air and sunlight are habitually excluded. There were four windows, none of which were open. All the blinds were closed. In this dim light, some hair ornaments, wax flowers, a marriage certificate and a few family photographs of assiduous and unrelenting aspect seemed waiting, in hostile patience, until the next funeral or other congenial ceremony should disturb their sepulchral peace. While the men seated themselves about the table, the boy climbed upon a long horse-hair sofa, whence he regarded them with a bored but dignified patience. The General, before seating himself, had taken from his waist an old-fashioned money-belt, which he laid upon the table. From this he extracted a surprising number of gold and silver coins and arranged them in little stacks. Mr. Judd’s curiosity was further increased when he took from other portions of the belt a number of English bank-notes, which he smoothed out and also laid before his host. “There are twelve thousand pounds in these notes,” he said, “and about two thousand in sovereigns, with a few hundred in American money.”