apartments, to pass the night in their
carriages at the inn doors. As for the lower
sort of strangers, I myself have often seen
them, at that full time, sleeping out on the
doorsteps for want of a covered place to creep
under. Rich as he was, Arthur's chance of
getting a night's lodging (seeing that he had
not written beforehand to secure one) was
more than doubtful. He tried the second
hotel, and the third hotel, and two of the
inferior inns after that; and was met
everywhere by the same form of answer. No
accommodation for the night of any sort was
left. All the bright golden sovereigns in his
pocket would not buy him a bed at
Doncaster in the race-week.

To a young fellow of Arthur's temperament,
the novelty of being turned away into the
street, like a penniless vagabond, at every
house where he asked for a lodging, presented
itself in the light of a new and highly
amusing piece of experience. He went on,
with his carpet-bag in his hand, applying for
a bed at every place of entertainment for
travellers that he could find in Doncaster,
until he wandered into the outskirts of the
town. By this time, the last glimmer of
twilight had faded out, the moon was rising
dimly in a mist, the wind was getting cold,
the clouds were gathering heavily, and there
was every prospect that it was soon going to
rain.

The look of the night had rather a lowering
effect on young Holliday's good spirits. He
began to contemplate the houseless situation
in which he was placed, from the serious
rather than the humorous point of view;
and he looked about him, for another public-
house to enquire at, with something very
like downright anxiety in his mind on the
subject of a lodging for the night. The
suburban part of the town towards which he
had now strayed was hardly lighted at all,
and he could see nothing of the houses as he
passed them, except that they got progressively
smaller and dirtier, the farther he
went. Down the winding road before him
shone the dull gleam of an oil lamp, the one
faint, lonely light that struggled ineffectually
with the foggy darkness all round him. He
resolved to go on as far as this lamp, and
then, if it showed him nothing in the shape
of an Inn, to return to the central part of
the town and to try if he could not at least
secure a chair to sit down on, through the
night, at one of the principal Hotels.

As he got near the lamp, he heard voices;
and, walking close under it, found that it
lighted the entrance to a narrow court, on
the wall of which was painted a long hand in
faded flesh-colour, pointing, with a lean
forefinger, to this inscription:—

THE TWO ROBINS.

Arthur turned into the court without
hesitation, to see what The Two Robins could
do for him. Four or five men were standing
together round the door of the house which
was at the bottom of the court, facing the
entrance from the street. The men were
all listening to one other man, better dressed
than the rest, who was telling his audience
something, in a low voice, in which they were
apparently very much interested.

On entering the passage, Arthur was
passed by a stranger with a knapsack in
his hand, who was evidently leaving the
house.

"No," said the traveller with the knap-
sack, turning round and addressing himself
cheerfully to a fat, sly-looking, bald-headed
man, with a dirty white apron on, who had
followed him down the passage. "No, Mr.
Landlord, I am not easily scared by trifles;
but, I don't mind confessing that I can't
quite stand that."

It occurred to young Holliday, the moment
he heard these words, that the stranger had
been asked an exorbitant price for a bed at
The Two Robins; and that he was unable
or unwilling to pay it. The moment his
back was turned, Arthur, comfortably
conscious of his own well-filled pockets,
addressed himself in a great hurry, for fear
any other benighted traveller should slip in
and forestall him, to the sly-looking landlord
with the dirty apron and the bald head.

"If you have got a bed to let," he said,
"and if that gentleman who has just gone
out won't pay you your price for it, I will."

The sly landlord looked hard at Arthur.

"Will you, sir?" he asked, in a meditative,
doubtful way.

"Name your price," said young Holliday,
thinking that the landlord's hesitation sprang
from some boorish distrust of him. "Name
your price, and I'll give you the money at
once, if you like?"

"Are you game for five shillings?"
enquired the landlord, rubbing his stubbly
double chin, and looking up thoughtfully at
the ceiling above him.

Arthur nearly laughed in the man's face;
but thinking it prudent to control himself,
offered the five shillings as seriously as he
could. The sly landlord held out his hand,
then suddenly drew it back again.

"You're acting all fair and above-board by
me," he said: "and, before I take your
money, I'll do the same by you. Look here,
this is how it stands. You can have a bed
all to yourself for five shillings; but you
can't have more than a half-share of the
room it stands in. Do you see what I mean,
young gentleman?"

"Of course I do," returned Arthur, a little
irritably. "You mean that it is a double-
bedded room, and that one of the beds is
occupied?"

The landlord nodded his head, and rubbed
his double chin harder than ever. Arthur
hesitated, and mechanically moved back a
step or two towards the door. The idea of