As he turned to leave the room, he encountered a sneering glance
from the bold-featured personage whom he had before noticed; and no
sooner was he beyond the door, than he heard a general laugh, in which
the innkeeper's voice might be distinguished, like the dropping of
small stones into a kettle.
"Now, is it not strange," thought Robin, with his usual shrewdness,
"is it not strange, that the confession of an empty pocket should
outweigh the name of my kinsman, Major Molineux? O, if I had one of
those grinning rascals in the woods, where I and my oak sapling grew
up together, I would teach him that my arm is heavy, though my purse
be light!"
On turning the corner of the narrow lane, Robin found himself in
a spacious street, with an unbroken line of lofty houses on each side,
and a steepled building at the upper end, whence the ringing of a bell
announced the hour of nine. The light of the moon, and the lamps
from the numerous shop windows, discovered people promenading on the
pavement, and amongst them Robin hoped to recognize his hitherto
inscrutable relative. The result of his former inquiries made him
unwilling to hazard another, in a scene of such publicity, and he
determined to walk slowly and silently up the street, thrusting his
face close to that of every elderly gentleman, in search of the
major's lineaments.
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