His body was limp, and so she told herself that he could not be dead, but was probably only unconscious from the cold.
It was a matter calling for quick action, however; so she pulled and tugged with her utmost strength. It was a heavy task to get him out of the sledge, but when once that was accomplished the rest was easy enough, and in about five minutes she had flung open the door and dragged him across the threshold into the kitchen, which was so warm from the heat of the stove.
“Why, Bertha, what have you got there?” asked Grace in surprise, for she had heard nothing of the arrival, as the snow muffled all sounds.
“It is a man, and he seems in a very bad way. He is a stranger, too. Do you think I dare leave him while I go and put the horses in the barn?” asked Bertha anxiously. It did not seem right to leave the man in his unconscious condition, and yet it was downright cruel to leave the poor horses standing out in the bitter cold.
“Horses, are there? Did he come in a sledge?” asked Grace.
“A two-horse sledge, piled high with baggage of some description. I expect that I shall have a great difficulty to get the barn door open, so if I am rather long, don’t be more worried than you can help. But if the man comes round before I get in, send Dicky to shout for me, will you, please?” said Bertha.
“Don’t try to get the sledge into the barn; it won’t snow again to-night, and if it does it will not matter. And can’t you take the horses one at a time along your covered passage and into the barn by the little door?” Grace mostly saw the way out of a difficulty in a flash, and Bertha had often to be thankful for her quick grasp of a situation.
“Oh, I can do that, and it won’t take me long, either. I was going to make a great effort to get the big doors open, and then I should have taken horses and sledge in that way. I won’t be long, dear, and oh, I do hope the unknown will not bother you,” said Bertha, departing in a great hurry to unhitch the two horses, which were getting restive with standing in the bitter cold. She had a horror of strange horses, and would never venture near them if she could help it. But to-night the situation was fairly desperate, and so she had to unharness the poor beasts, or leave them there to die.
They were very gentle and quiet, very eager for food and water, but never once showing the least symptom of a desire to kick or bite, and when they reached the barn they ranged up beside the manger as if they had been used to the place all their lives. She took care to tie them securely, so that there was no danger of their falling foul of old Pucker, which worthy animal had a rather disagreeable temper where strange horses were concerned.
Then Bertha hurried indoors again to see how it fared with the unconscious man who had been thrown so strangely on their care that night. “It will be horrid to have a stranger here to-night, and a man; a woman might have been bearable. Oh, dear, how awkward things can be!” she exclaimed, with a touch of impatience; for if she had to delay very long over trying to bring the senseless man round, she would have to do the milking by lantern light.