But his surly guest
said scarcely a word.
In the morning a good breakfast was served, and then Mr. Randolph made
ready to start on his journey. He called for his bill and paid it. His
horse was led to the door, and a servant helped him to mount it.
As he was starting away, the friendly innkeeper said, "Which way will
you travel, Mr. Randolph?"
Mr. Randolph looked at him in no gentle way, and answered, "Sir!"
"I only asked which way you intend to travel," said the man.
"Oh! I have I paid you my bill?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do I owe you anything more?"
"No, sir."
"Then, I intend to travel the way I wish to go--do you understand?"
He turned his horse and rode away. He had not gone farther than to the
end of the innkeeper's field, when to his surprise he found that the
road forked. He did not know whether he should take the right-hand
fork or the left-hand.
He paused for a while. There was no signboard to help him. He looked
back and saw the innkeeper still standing by the door. He called to
him:--"My friend, which of these roads shall I travel to go to
Lynchburg?"
"Mr. Randolph," answered the innkeeper, "you have paid your bill and
don't owe me a cent.
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