It was in May that Mr. Hamerton had come to us, for Easter that year fell in that month; and the weather after that, which had been very bitter in the winter, with so much snow as I never saw before, but clearer about Eastertime, fell very wet and stormy again in June.
It was on a Thursday evening, in the first week in June, that the bad weather set in with a violent storm of rain and a high wind. We sat in the Great Chamber after supper, and had some music as usual: and between the music we listened to the gusts of wind and the rattle of the rain, which made so great a noise that Dolly said that it was no use for her to go to bed yet, for that she would not sleep if she went. Her maid went to bed; and we three sat talking till nearly half-past ten o'clock, which is very late for the country where men rise at four o'clock.
The wind made such a noise that we heard nothing of the approach to the house; and the first that we knew of anyone's coming was a hammering at the door.
"Why, who is that;" said I, "that comes so late?"
I could see that my Cousin Tom did not like it, for his face shewed it—(I suppose it was the memory of that other time when the hammering came)—so I said nothing, but went myself to the outer door and unbolted it.
A fellow stood there in a great riding-cloak; but I could see he wore some kind of a livery beneath.
"Well," I said, "what do you want?"
He saw that I was a gentleman by my dress; and he answered me very civilly.
"My master is benighted, sir," said he; "and he bid me come and ask whether he might lie here to-night. There is no inn in the place."
"Why, who is your master?" I asked.