I raised my voice and
cried again,--
'A MOI!'
'Who is there?' a voice asked.
'A gentleman in distress,' I answered piteously, moving my hands
across the door. 'For God's sake open and let me in. I am hurt,
and dying of cold.'
'What brings you here?' the voice asked sharply. Despite its
tartness, I fancied that it was a woman's.
'Heaven knows!' I answered desperately. 'I cannot tell. They
maltreated me at the inn, and threw me into the street. I
crawled away, and have been wandering in the wood for hours.
Then I saw a light here.'
On that some muttering took place on the other side of the door--
to which I had my ear. It ended in the bars being lowered. The
door swung partly open, and a light shone out, dazzling me. I
tried to shade my eyes with my fingers, and, as did so, fancied I
heard a murmur of pity. But when I looked in under screen of my
hand, I saw only one person--the man who held the light, and his
aspect was so strange, so terrifying, that, shaken as I was by
fatigue, I recoiled a step.
He was a tall and very thin man, meanly dressed in a short,
scanty jacket and well-darned hose.
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