door, we entered a barn, and were safe for the night. The moon shone
through the open door, and I saw that the barn was empty, probably because
the year's crops, as I knew to my sorrow, had been poor indeed in our
district. The fact that the barn was bare told in our favour, as no farm
hand would be likely to come near it should one be stirring before us next
morning.

A rick stood handy in the yard, and on going to it I found that three or
four dasses of hay had been carved out ready for removal to the stalls. I
carried them to the shed, one by one, and mighty hot I was by the time I
dumped the last on the barn floor. Starting off again, I poached around in
another shed, and was lucky enough to find a pile of empty corn sacks.
Spreading these three or four deep in the far corner of the barn, I
covered them thickly with hay, and having reserved a sack on purpose, I
stuffed it loosely with hay to serve for a pillow.

All this busy time Mistress Waynflete stood on the moonlit door-sill,
silent as a mouse, and when I stole quietly up to tell her all was ready,
I saw that her hands were clasped in front and her lips moved. I bared my
head and waited, for she had transformed this poor barn into a maiden's
sanctuary.

She turned her face towards me. "Madam," said I, very quietly, "your bed
is ready, and you are tired out and dead for sleep. Pray come!"

Still silent, she stepped up and examined my rude handiwork. Then she
curled herself up on the hay, and I covered her with more hay till she lay
snug enough to keep out another Great Frost.

"Good night, madam, and sweet sleep befall you," and I was turning away.