Oh, the old
villain!
He came forward, saying in an impressive voice that a major had taken
the inn.
"Bother the major," said Jo. "Something must be done."
The professor smiled. "There _is_ another inn."
There was nothing for it. We had to go to the inn across the road, glad
enough to have a roof at all. The rain was tearing down as if the
heavens were filled with fire-engines.
But they didn't want us there. We beheld a dirty low-ceiled room filled
with filthy people and a smell of wet unwashed clothes.
The owner and his wife received us roughly. "We have no room, we have
nothing," they said.
We stood our ground. "We _must_ have a roof to-night."
Outside the road had become a river, our men were nearly dropping with
fatigue.
"You can't come here," said the innkeeper, looking at us with great
distrust.
The major, whom Jo had "bothered," came in. "You must take these
people," he said, and asked various searching questions about the rooms.
Reluctantly the truth came out that if the whole family slept in one
room there would be one for us.
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