"
"Hold your damned tongue!" quoth Mr. Nadin; but, nevertheless, seeing
his men grinning and a little ashamed of themselves, he ordered them
back.
Meanwhile Zachariah pursued his way north-westward unchallenged, and
at last came to a roadside inn, which he thought looked safe. He
walked in, and found half a dozen decent-looking men sitting round a
fire and smoking. One of them was a parson, and another was one of
the parish overseers. It was about half-past ten, and they were not
merry, but a trifle boozy and stupid. Zachariah called for a pint of
beer and some bread and cheese, and asked if he could have a bed.
The man who served him didn't know; but would go and see. Presently
the overseer was beckoned out of the room, and the man came back
again and informed Zachariah that there was no bed for him, and that
he had better make haste with his supper, as the house would close at
eleven. In a minute or two the door opened again, and a poor,
emaciated weaver entered and asked the overseer for some help. His
wife, he said, was down with the fever; he had no work; he had had no
victuals all day, and he and his family were starving. He was
evidently known to the company.
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