When he got to the Maypole, however, and Joe, responding to his
well-known hail, came running out to the horse's head, leaving the door
open behind him, and disclosing a delicious perspective of warmth and
brightness--when the ruddy gleam of the fire, streaming through the old
red curtains of the common room, seemed to bring with it, as part of
itself, a pleasant hum of voices, and a fragrant odour of steaming grog
and rare tobacco, all steeped as it were in the cheerful glow--when the
shadows, flitting across the curtain, showed that those inside had risen
from their snug seats, and were making room in the snuggest corner (how
well he knew that corner!) for the honest locksmith, and a broad glare,
suddenly streaming up, bespoke the goodness of the crackling log from
which a brilliant train of sparks was doubtless at that moment whirling
up the chimney in honour of his coming--when, superadded to these
enticements, there stole upon him from the distant kitchen a gentle
sound of frying, with a musical clatter of plates and dishes, and a
savoury smell that made even the boisterous wind a perfume--Gabriel
felt his firmness oozing rapidly away. He tried to look stoically at the
tavern, but his features would relax into a look of fondness.
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