"I think I shall light the fire," continued the man; "it will be sort of company for you and it gets cold up here of nights at this season. I shouldn't wonder if this rain turned into snow. Besides, it will dry your clothes for you."
Then he went over to the fireplace, struck a match, touched it to the kindling under the huge logs already prepared, and in a moment a cheerful blaze was roaring up through the chimney. Then he picked up from the floor where she had cast them in a heap, her bedraggled garments. He straightened them out as best he could, hung them over the backs of chairs and the table which he drew as near to the fire as was safe. Having completed this unwonted task he turned to the woman who had watched him curiously and nervously the while.
"Is there anything more that I can do for you?"
"Nothing; you have been as kind and as gentle as you were strong and brave."
He threw his hand out with a deprecating gesture.
"Are you quite comfortable?"
"Yes."
"And your foot?"
"Good night then, I will call you in the morning."