"Who wants to see him?" he inquired of me.

Satisfied, now, that Hammond was in the room, I said, slightly
elevating my voice:

"His mother."

The words were an "open sesame" to the room. The door was suddenly
jerked open, and with a blanching face, the young man confronted
me.

"Who says my mother is down-stairs?" he demanded.

"I come from her in search of you," I said. "You will find her in
the road, walking up and down in front of the tavern."

Almost with a bound he swept by me, and descended the stairway at
two or three long strides. As the door swung open, I saw besides
Green and Hammond, the landlord and Judge Lyman. It needed not the
loose cards on the table near which the latter were sitting to
tell me of their business in that room.

As quickly as seemed decorous, I followed Hammond. On the porch I
met him, coming in from the road.

"You have deceived me, sir," said he, sternly--almost menacingly.

"No, sir!" I replied. "What I told you was but too true. Look!
There she is now."