"I hope I'm not———" I began.
"Are you warm enough?" he inquired, suddenly stepping back to the bedside and laying a hand on its coverings. "It's a gey cold night, and I'm thinking you're not of these parts."
"Oh, I'm warm enough indeed, thank you," I assured him. "Couldn't be more comfortable, sir."
"Then go to sleep again," he commanded, with another of his half-jesting, half-cynical laughs. "You're heartily welcome to my ancient roof."
He went away then, quietly closing the door behind him, and I obeyed his behest and fell asleep again. Nor did I awake until the old man that I had seen by the kitchen fire the night before appeared in my room, bringing me hot water, shaving tackle, tea. He drew back curtains and blinds, and I saw that the sky was still grey and heavy.
"More snow in the night?" I asked him.
He started, as if unused to being spoken to, and nodded his old head.
"Aye, there'll have been a deal more
