"He waved his huge gaunt hands. 'We're not going to lose you now we've
got you,' he said, with a dry laugh. 'It's seldom we have company, and
now we've got you we'll keep you. My son's eyes are bad, and he can't
stand the light. Ah, here is Anne.'

"As he spoke the old woman entered, and, eyeing me stealthily, began to
lay the cloth, while my host, taking a chair the other side of the
hearth, sat looking silently into the fire. The table set, the old woman
brought in a pair of fowls ready carved in a dish, and placing three
chairs, left the room. The old man hesitated a moment, and then, rising
from his chair, placed a large screen in front of the fire and slowly
extinguished the candles.

"'Blind man's holiday,' he said, with clumsy jocosity, and groping his
way to the door opened it. Somebody came back into the room with him,
and in a slow, uncertain fashion took a seat at the table, and the
strangest voice I have ever heard broke a silence which was fast becoming
oppressive.

"'A cold night,' it said slowly.

"I replied in the affirmative, and light or no light, fell to with an
appetite which had only been sharpened by the snack in the middle of the
day. It was somewhat difficult eating in the dark, and it was evident
from the behaviour of my invisible companions that they were as unused to
dining under such circumstances as I was. We ate in silence until the
old woman blundered into the room with some sweets and put them with a
crash upon the table.

"'Are you a stranger about here?' inquired the curious voice again.