The next house at the top of the hill is ours." "Why, I thought that would be the inn!" exclaimed Richard, looking at the little white-washed house, with its sign-board, or what seemed to be such, swinging in the rising breeze.
"It _is_ the inn," said his companion, quietly, but not without a roguish smile.

"Father keeps the _Gethin Castle_, although he has many other trades." "And is that he, at the door yonder ?" inquired Richard, pointing to a tall, thick-set man of middle age, who was standing beneath the little portico, with a pipe in his mouth.
"No, Sir, that is not father," replied the girl, with sudden gravity; "that is Solomon Coe.".