"It is one," said the man, "and with a topmast and rigging all complete, just as it would be if it were stepped in a vessel instead of the dooryard of the Brig Tavern." Anthony looked at the mast for a moment, then turned his eyes upon the man. "When I inquired about an inn," said he, "you spoke of an indifferent one a long way off, but made no mention of this excellent one so close at hand." The wood-cutter grasped the haft of his ax and plucked its blade out of the log. "The Brig is so off the road," said he, "I thought you'd not care to go there." There was a look in the man's face that gave a different story; but Anthony did not stay to go further into the matter; he thanked him, turned his horses back to the road, and proceeded on. In a little while he came to the place where the winding road crossed the main one; taking to this he journeyed on toward the tavern. The winter twilight had grown thicker; and ahead in the hollow where the cedars grew, night had already thrown itself down. There was a dull glow from the inn; it served to light the way through the trees, and as Anthony's sleigh drew up a man came out of a barn with a lantern. "What, Mr. Blake," said the man, "are you back so soon?" "I am not Mr. Blake," said Anthony, as he threw aside the robes and got out. "What encouragement is there here for a traveler who has the mind to stay overnight?" The man held the lantern up so that its lighted candle might bring out Anthony's face. "I was sure you were Mr. Blake," said he. "Your horses feet pattered on the road just as his do, and you came in at the gate in the same free fashion." "As I so resemble friend Blake in those ways," said Anthony, "I wonder is he like me in being hungry and in need of a fire and a bed." "I have no doubt but you can have both if you inquire within," said the man. "And if you desire I'll rub and feed and bed your horses." Anthony turned the animals over to him, and walked up the paved way to the door of the tavern. There were some massive hewn steps leading up to the door, and a hood projected over it to keep out the wash of the weather. Anthony went through the wide hall and into a room at one side. Two men sat by a fire playing drafts, and a woman stood by the table watching them. One of the men was a furtive, dry-looking person with a patch over one eye; the other was Monsieur Lafargue. And she who stood looking on was his daughter. XVII As Anthony stood in the doorway, unnoticed by those in the room, a man came down the passage. It was the landlord, a massive man, with a glowing vitality and a quick eye. "Pardon," said he, "I did not know monsieur had arrived. I was expecting no one, for the night is shutting down." Anthony followed him along the passage and into another room; this was larger than the first, but it was snug enough, there being a good fire blazing, and the curtains being drawn to keep out the bleak look of the falling night.