From an impulse of politeness and respect, not unmingled with fear, all arose on his entrance,—the expression “The devil in a gale of wind,” rushing upon their minds with a signification to which a profound silence gave expressive utterance. The stranger noticed their reserved yet voluntary respect with a slight nod, and proceeded to disencumber himself of his wet clothes and warm his fingers by the fire. By this time the driver entered bearing the baggage of his passenger. “The worst storm I was ever troubled with blowing right in my teeth, and I guess the gentleman there found it the same.” Here a low whisper ensued between the driver and the landlord, from which an unconnected word or phrase dropped upon the ear of the inmates. “Don’t know,—came in the,—as rich as a mine,” &c. Upon this information the landlord immediately took his wet garments and hung them carefully before the fire. “I hope that your wetting will not injure your health, sir.” “I hardly think it will, my good friend; I am no child to catch cold from a ducking.” “Shall I show you a room, sir?” said the landlord. “We can let you have as good a room and as comfortable a supper as any in the country.” The stranger was immediately conducted into a handsome parlor, in which blazed a cheerful fire; and in a short time a smoking supper was placed on the board. After supper was over, he called the landlord into his room, and sent for his trunk. “I like your accommodations,” accosting the landlord, “and if you like my proposals equally well, I will be your guest for some time, though I know not how long. Nay, I shall stay at any price you please—but remember, I must have my rooms to myself, and they must not be entered without my leave; and whatever I do, no questions to be asked. Do you consent to these terms?” “I do sir,” replied the landlord, “and you shall not have cause to complain of your treatment.” “Very well,” rejoined the stranger, “then the agreement is completed. You may go now.” “Yes, sir,” replied the landlord, “but what may I call your name, sir?” “Beware, you have broken the bargain already,” replied the stranger. “I forgive you for this once only; now ask no more questions, or you will certainly drive me from your house.” After this the landlord returned to his bar-room, from which the merry farmers had not yet withdrawn, but were endeavoring to penetrate the mystery that hung around the stranger. “Well, landlord,” said the arch Hopkins, “what do you make him out to be?” “That is a question I dare hardly answer. He is a gentleman, for he does not grudge his money.” “I would not think he should,” replied Hopkins, shaking his head mysteriously. “And why not?” exclaimed several of the company. “Ah, just as I thought,” returned Hopkins, with another shake of the head and significant look at the landlord. “What, in the name of all that’s silly, is the matter with you, Hopkins?” exclaimed the landlord. “What on earth can you know?” “I know what I know,” was his reply.