The three men now proceeded to the door and the bell was rung. A moving of chairs and unlocking of doors indicated that the house had not gone to bed. The door was soon opened by Titus Bright, in his shirt sleeves and slippers, and holding a candle in his hand. "What's up, Flint?" he enquired, for he saw only the boatmen; "what brings you over at this time of night?" "There was a shillin' to be made, you see, Bright, and a passenger what wanted settin' over, you see," said the ferryman, his face beaming with good nature. "Know you'd like to see him, you know, Bright, and to make him as comfortable as you could for a night or so. Tom and me pulled him across." Tite now advanced towards the inn-keeper, who gazed at him with an air of astonishment, and held the candle above his head to avoid the shadow. "Come in, come in," said Bright. "We will make the gentleman as comfortable as we can." "You have forgotten me, I see," said Tite, smiling and extending his hand. "God bless me!" exclaimed Bright, grasping his hand in a paroxysm of delight; "if here isn't Tite Toodleburg cum home. Come in, come in. Welcome home." After shaking him warmly by the hand and leading him into the parlor, the inn-keeper ran and brought his wife, who welcomed the young man with the tenderness of a mother. The good woman would have had a fire made and supper prepared, and indeed entertained him for the rest of the night, expressing her joy over his return, had he not told her how great was his anxiety to see his parents. "I know who it is the young man wants to see," said Bright, touching him on the elbow and nodding his head suggestively. "And there'll be a flutter up stairs when it's told her you're cum home." The boatmen had remained in the hall. Bright now invited them into his bar and filled mugs of ale for them, and joined them in drinking the health of the young man who had been round the world. He then dismissed them, saying he would take care of the young gentleman's baggage; and stepping up stairs, tapped gently at Chapman's door. "We were all retiring for the night," said Mrs. Chapman, opening the door slightly, and looking alarmed, for Bright was in a flutter of excitement, and it was nearly a minute before he could tell what he wanted. At length he stammered out: "There, there, there--there's a strange gentleman down stairs, mam--and he would like to see Miss Mattie, I am sure he would." "Mr. Bright," replied Mrs. Chapman, tossing her head and compressing her lips, "he can't be much of a gentleman to come at this hour of night. My daughter has no acquaintance who would presume to take such a liberty. Etiquette forbids it." Mattie now made her appearance, with a book half open in her left hand, and looking anxious and agitated. Then resting her right hand on her mother's shoulder, "Mr. Bright," she enquired, in a hesitating voice, "what does the gentleman look like?" "A nice gentleman enough, Miss--" "Is it any one you know?"