"
Stafford smiled approvingly and started out in the direction of the
buildings towards which Copplestone had pointed.
"Excellent notion!" he said. "You're quite a business man--an unusual
thing in authors, isn't it? Come on, then--and that is an inn, too--I can
make out the sign now--The 'Admiral's Arms'--Mary Wooler. Let's hope Mary
Wooler, who's presumably the landlady, can give us some useful news!"
The "Admiral's Arms" proved to be an old-fashioned, capacious hostelry,
eminently promising and comfortable in appearance, which stood on the
edge of a broad shelf of headland, and commanded a fine view of the
little village and the bay. Stafford and Copplestone, turning in at the
front door, found themselves in a deep, stone-paved hall, on one side of
which, behind a bar window, a pleasant-faced, buxom woman, silk-aproned
and smartly-capped, was busily engaged in adding up columns of figures in
a big account-book. At sight of strangers she threw open a door and
smilingly invited them to walk into a snugly furnished bar-parlour where
a bright fire burned in an open hearth. Stafford gave his companion a
look--this again was just the sort of old-world place which would appeal
to Basset Oliver, supposing he had come across it.
"I wonder if you can give me some information?" he asked presently, when
the good-looking landlady had attended to their requests for refreshment.
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