“Ruth!” it said this time.
Christian hesitated no longer.
“David! There is one without, calling on us. And it must be one we knew of old, for it calls me by my old name. Pray thee, get up, and let the poor soul in; ’tis not a night for a dog to tarry without, never speak of a human creature, who must be in some trouble.”
David sat up and listened.
“I hear nothing, Wife. I think thou must have been dreaming.”
“Nay, I have been wide awake this hour gone. I am sure some one spoke.”
“I think it’s fancy, Christian. However—”
“There’s no harm in making sure.”
“There’s the harm of letting in a lot of snow,” said David, not suiting the action to the word, for he had risen and was pulling on his hose. They required careful pulling, as they were so nearly in pieces that very little rough handling would have damaged them past repair. He was fastening the last clasp when the voice spoke again. It was nearer now, close at the door, and it was low and trembling, as if the applicant had hard work to speak at all.
“For the love of the Crucified,” it said, “take in a Christian child!”