Handel was feeling rather anxious. The unrest had delayed them along the way, and even their current destination was not quite where they had intended to go. But he knew he could not afford to be impatient. He had to get Mr. Moor settled.
They were now in a large city near Bach's border.
The two hurried through the train station, one behind the other, then took a carriage into the city. Prosperity and poverty mingled along the streets. Industry was thriving, and the roar of steam engines never ceased, as though the city had been fitted with countless iron hearts.
Snowflakes drifted through the sky. Their nonstop journey had left them both exhausted and hungry. Even Handel was worn out, let alone Moor. They urgently needed an inn where they could eat and get some rest.
"Mr. Brooke, over there. Let's try that one!"
Moor pointed to a place diagonally across the street. Its sign advertised an inn, though several missing letters made the name hard to read. The street beside it was littered with rubbish, but warm air kept seeping through the gaps around the windows. Together with the golden light inside, it made the place look wonderfully warm.
Handel was normally particular about such things and had wanted to find a more respectable hotel. But the sight of the inn, followed by the aroma wafting out of it, made it hard for him to move on.
The two quickly headed toward the inn. They could hear the noise inside before they even reached the door. Though called an inn, it was really a tavern and restaurant with rooms to let. Many establishments of this less expensive sort offered several services.
When they opened the door, a cord attached to it tugged a bell inside, producing a jingle.