In an instant he was down again and
back at the door.
'Who are you?' he cried, in a voice which seemed to me to be thrilling
with some strong emotion.
'I am a traveller, and have lost my way.' There was a pause as if he
were thinking what course he should pursue.
'You will find little here to tempt you to stay,' said he at last.
'I am weary and spent, sir; and surely you will not refuse me shelter.
I have been wandering for hours in the salt-marsh.'
'Did you meet anyone there?' he asked eagerly.
'No.'
'Stand back a little from the door. This is a wild place, and the times
are troublous. A man must take some precautions.'
I took a few steps back, and he then opened the door sufficiently to
allow his head to come through. He said nothing, but he looked at me
for a long time in a very searching manner.
'What is your name?'
'Louis Laval,' said I, thinking that it might sound less dangerous in
this plebeian form.
'Whither are you going?'
'I wish to reach some shelter.'
'You are from England?'
'I am from the coast.
Pages:
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45