At one o’clock Potts went to the inn, where he found the agent. He handed over the money in silence. The agent gave him the documents. Potts looked at them all carefully. Then he departed. CHAPTER XLIV. THE STRANGER’S STORY. That evening a number of people were in the principal parlor of the Brandon Inn. It was a cool evening in October; and there was a fire near which the partner of Bigelow, Higginson, & Co. had seated himself. Clark had come in at the first of the evening and had been there ever since, talking volubly and laughing boisterously. The others were more or less talkative, but none of them rivaled Clark. They were nearly all Brandon people; and in their treatment of Clark there was a certain restraint which the latter either did not wish or care to notice. As for the stranger he sat apart in silence without regarding any one in particular, and giving no indication whether he was listening to what was going on or was indifferent to it all. From time to time Clark threw glances in his direction, and once or twice he tried to draw some of the company out to make remarks about him; but the company seemed reluctant to touch upon the subject, and merely listened with patience. Clark had evidently a desire in his mind to be very entertaining and lively. With this intent he told a number of stories, most of which were intermingled with allusions to the company present, together with the stranger. At last he gazed at the latter in silence for some little time, and then turned to the company. “There’s one among us that hasn’t opened his mouth this evening. I call it unsociable. I move that the party proceed to open it forthwith. Who seconds the motion? Don’t all speak at once.” The company looked at one another, but no one made any reply. “What! no one speaks! All right; silence gives consent;” and with these words Clark advanced toward the stranger. The latter said nothing, but sat in a careless attitude. “Friend!” said Clark, standing before the stranger, “we’re all friends here--we wish to be sociable--we think you are too silent--will you be kind enough to open your mouth? If you won’t tell a story, perhaps you will be good enough to sing us a song?” The stranger sat upright. “Well,” said he; in the same peculiar harsh voice and slow tone with which he had spoken to Potts, “the request is a fair one, and I shall be happy to open my mouth. I regret to state that having no voice I shall be unable to give you a song, but I’ll be glad to tell a story, if the company will listen.” “The company will feel honored,” said Clark, in a mocking tone, as he resumed his seat. The stranger arose, and, going to the fire-place, picked up a piece of charcoal. Clark sat in the midst of the circle, looking at him with a sneering smile. “It’s rather an odd story,” said the stranger, “and I only heard it the other day; perhaps you won’t believe it, but it’s true.” “Oh, never mind the truth of it!” exclaimed Clark--“push along.”