slighter and shorter than himself, but sufficiently like him to be known
as his brother, and the travellers staggered in--the door, with a heavy
crash, blowing to behind them.

Perhaps now for the first time it really struck Babette that she had
been headstrong in persisting in her journey, and in trusting herself
and child to the mercy of utter strangers so far from home. The same
thought passed through the old pedlar's mind, but it was too late to
retreat, so they silently followed their new host and his brother. They
went down a passage and into a room, half kitchen, half parlour, snugly
and even comfortably furnished.

[Illustration: "A MAN AND A WOMAN SAT OVER THE FIRE."]

Heavy wooden shutters dulled the noise of the boisterous gale outside. A
thick red curtain hung over the door, and a cheery log fire burnt in the
stove. A man and woman sat over it; the man, a tall, repulsive-looking
creature, with unkempt hair and matted beard, his age apparently about
fifty. The woman looked seventy or more. She too had once been tall, but
now old age gave her a withered, witch-like appearance, in spite of her
great height. She was dressed in limp, faded garments, with a tattered
shawl crossed over her chest, and had a scared, miserable look in her
bleared old eyes. There were a few words of explanation from the man who
had come home, and then, in gruff but not unkindly tones, he bade
Babette be seated, and told his mother to get some supper speedily. She
spread a coarse cloth on the wooden table, and when all was ready,
lifted a large black saucepan from the stove and turned out a smoking,
savoury-looking stew. The youngest son produced a bottle containing the
thin acid wine of the country, and another of spirits. As he set them on
the table, Babette noticed that across one of his hands, which were much