"Nay, but it may be some wayfarer lost or misled on this inclement night," said Shakespeare. "A few minutes' neglect may cause death. I pr'ythee allow me to open and look out. There are enough of us here," he continued, smiling at the horror-stricken peasants, "to cudgel Puck and all his crew."
So saying, Shakespeare stepped across to the door, and, drawing the bolts, quickly opened it, when the body of a man to all appearance dead, rolled into the apartment.
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE MISLED WANDERER.
The visitation we have just described caused a sufficiently startling interruption to the cozy comfort of the entire party. Young Shakespeare started back in some surprise, and the whole circle, springing from their seats, stood gazing upon the object so suddenly introduced amongst them.
The villagers looked upon the visitation as something supernatural, and were afraid to move; but Shakespeare, after closing the door, with main force against the driving wind and snow, stooped down and examined the object at his feet.
"Move the log upon the hearth, Master Hathaway," he said, "and make it send up a flame, so that I may see better. Ah, 'tis as I thought, some poor devil caught in the storm. He seems dead."
"Dead!" cried Dame Hathaway, regaining courage, when she found the visitor was not a fairy, or perhaps Robin Goodfellow in propriâ personâ. "Dead! Gad-a-mercy, how dreadful!"
"Best warm his inside," said Master Hathaway, approaching. "Here, let us drag him close to the fire, and give him something to drink."