by good fortune (or was it bad?) I at last espied through the gathering gloom a solitary and not very distant light twinkling from a lodge at the entrance of a private road.  I fought my way through the snow as quickly as possible, and, presenting myself at the gate of the little cottage, rang the bell complacently, and flattered myself that I had at length discovered a resting-place.  An old man with grey hair answered my summons.  Him I acquainted with my misfortune, and to him I preferred my request that I might be allowed a night’s shelter in the lodge, or at least the temporary privilege of drying myself and my habiliments at his fireside.  The old fellow admitted me cheerfully enough; but he seemed more than doubtful as to the possibility of my passing the night beneath his roof.

“Ye see, sir,” he said, “we’ve only one small room—­me and the missis; and I don’t well see how we’re to manage about you.  All the same, sir, I wouldn’t advise ye to go on tonight, for if ye’re bound for Mr —–­’s, ye’ve come a deal out of your way, and the storm’s getting worse and worse every minute.  We shall have a nasty night of it, sir, and it’ll be a deal too stiff for travelling on foot.”

Here the wife, a hospitable-looking old woman, interposed.

“Willum, don’t ye think as the gentleman might be put to sleep in the room up at the House, where George slept last time he was here to see us?  His bed’s there still, ye know.  It’s a very good room, sir,” she argued, addressing me; “and I can give ye a pair of blankets in no time.”

“But,” said I, “the master of the house doesn’t know me.  I am a stranger here altogether.”

“Lor’ bless ye, sir!” answered my host, “there ain’t nobody in the place.  The house has been to let these ten years at least to my knowledge; for I’ve been here eight, and the house and the lodge had both been empty no one knows how long when I come.  I rents this cottage of Mr Houghton, out yonder.”

“Oh well,” I rejoined, “if that is the case, and there is nobody’s leave save yours to ask, I’m willing enough to sleep at the house, and thank you too for your kindness.”

So it was arranged that I should pass the coming night within the walls of the empty mansion; and, until it was time to retire thither, I amused and edified myself by a friendly chat with the old man and his spouse, both of whom were vastly communicative.  At ten o’clock I and my host adjourned to the house, which stood at a very short distance from the lodge.  I carried my bag, and my companion bore the blankets already referred to, a candle, and some firewood and matches.  The chamber to which he conducted me was comfortable enough, but by no means profusely furnished.  It contained a small truckle bedstead, two chairs, and a washstand, but no attempt at pictures or ornaments of any description.  Evidently it was an impromptu bedroom.