"I’d ought to be ready, sir, but I’m swamped with folks this night," she declared. "I fear there ’ll be no packet leave, either; the wind ’s down, and the last gust’s blown. If the packet don’t get in, she can’t get out, tide or no tide to help her. I ’ve got your fire alight in the best room, but you ’ll wait long for your suppers, I fear, sir. My kitchen ’s no place for a lady." "Tut, tut, my good lass!" said the alderman. "We ’ll wait an’ welcome. I know your best room,—’t is a snug enough place; and we ’ll wait there till you ’re free. Give me a mug of your good ale now, and some bread and cheese, and think no more of us. I expect to find a young man here, later on, to speak with me. There ’s no one yet asking for me, I dare say? We are before our time." [Illustration: ALONG THE DIKE] The busy woman shook her head and hurried away, banging the door behind her; and presently, as she crossed the kitchen, she remembered the young gentleman in the rough clothes upstairs, and then only thanked Heaven to know that he was sound asleep, and not clamoring for his supper on the instant, like all the rest. "I ’ll not wake him yet for a bit," she told herself; "then they can all sup together pleasant, him and the young lady." Mr. Davis, after having warmed himself before the bright fire of coals, and looked carefully at the portrait of his Majesty King George the Third on the parlor wall, soon began to despair of the ale, and went out into the kitchen to take a look at things. There was nobody there to interest him much, and the air was stifling. Young Wallingford might possibly have been among this very company in some rough disguise, but he certainly was not; and presently the alderman returned, followed by a young maid, who carried a tray with the desired refreshments. "There’s a yellow-faced villain out there; a gallows bird, if ever I saw one!" he said, as he seated himself again by the fire.