‘Come, Monsieur Laval,’ said he, with
quite a different ring in his voice; ’I really
cannot permit you to leave me upon so tempestuous a
night. A warm by my fire and a glass of brandy
will hearten you upon your way.’
You may think that I did not feel disposed to contradict
him, though I could make nothing of this sudden and
welcome change in his manner.
‘I am much obliged to you, sir,’ said
I.
And I followed him into the hut.
THE RUINED COTTAGE
It was delightful to see the glow and twinkle of the
fire and to escape from the wet wind and the numbing
cold, but my curiosity had already risen so high about
this lonely man and his singular dwelling that my
thoughts ran rather upon that than upon my personal
comfort. There was his remarkable appearance,
the fact that he should be awaiting company within
that miserable ruin in the heart of the morass at so
sinister an hour, and finally the inexplicable incident
of the chimney, all of which excited my imagination.
It was beyond my comprehension why he should at one
moment charge me sternly to continue my journey, and
then, in almost the same breath, invite me most cordially
to seek the shelter of his hut. On all these
points I was keenly on the alert for an explanation.
Yet I endeavoured to conceal my feelings, and to assume
the air of a man who finds everything quite natural
about him, and who is much too absorbed in his own
personal wants to have a thought to spare upon anything
outside himself.
A glance at the inside of the cottage, as I entered,
confirmed me in the conjecture which the appearance
of the outside had already given rise to, that it
was not used for human residence, and that this man
was only here for a rendezvous. Prolonged moisture
had peeled the plaster in flakes from the walls, and
had covered the stones with blotches and rosettes
of lichen. The whole place was rotten and scaling
like a leper. The single large room was unfurnished
save for a crazy table, three wooden boxes, which
might be used as seats, and a great pile of decayed
fishing-net in the corner. The splinters of a
fourth box, with a hand-axe, which leaned against
the wall, showed how the wood for the fire had been
gathered. But it was to the table that my gaze
was chiefly drawn, for there, beside the lamp and
the book, lay an open basket, from which projected
the knuckle-end of a ham, the corner of a loaf of
bread, and the black neck of a bottle.
If my host had been suspicious and cold at our first
meeting he was now atoning for his inhospitality by
an overdone cordiality even harder for me to explain.
With many lamentations over my mud-stained and sodden
condition, he drew a box close to the blaze and cut
me off a corner of the bread and ham. I could
not help observing, however, that though his loose
under-lipped mouth was wreathed with smiles, his beautiful
dark eyes were continually running over me and my
attire, asking and re-asking what my business might
be.
