StoryFen

"Oh, Mary, which one of them do you suppose is he?" whispered Dorothy, as the two girls hung over the balustrade of the upper hall, watching the figures entering through the outer door, all of them so muffled in storm-cloaks as to look precisely alike, save as to height. The landlord, with much obsequious bustling, had hastened forward to meet them. His wife was beside him, and she had just summoned a servant to assist in taking the wet wrappings from the new arrivals as she stood courtesying before them. "The roo…