The landlord recoiled with an oath. It was the voice of a woman. His disappointment was bitter; a woman when he had looked for a prince!
Again he put his questions, this time angrily. What could a woman want at his inn on that inaccessible, inhospitable shore at that hour of the night? He met with the same reply, but this time there seemed a deeper fervour in it.
Gamaliel was so angry at his disillusion, that his first thought was to refuse admittance to these travellers. But then in a flash there came a second thought. They were refugees, of course. How foolish of him not to have surmised that. They might not be royal personages, yet might they not have their value too?
The next moment he had unbarred the door. Sure enough, a woman was on the threshold. She was masked and cloaked like one who had journeyed far: the white rime was heavy on her garments and her hair; and she looked more dead than alive with the piercing cold. Her hands shook visibly as one held her horse’s rein, and the other gathered up her riding-coat.
“I give you welcome, madam,” said the landlord, making his best leg.
He smirked and bowed as humbly as he could. He was not ill pleased by the appearance of the woman. It was sad indeed, but there was that in her bearing that plainly said she was a person of condition.
“I beseech you to succour us,” she said, with great entreaty. “My husband is stricken sore, and so spent with traveling that he must die to-night out in the cold if you do not help us.”
“God forbid!” said the landlord, piously. He liked the sweetness and the candour of her bearing. His curiosity was stimulated by it too. She thanked him with a grave simplicity, and went forth to her companion. The landlord followed with his assistance. He could dimly discern by the candle-light coming through the open door a second horse, sorely distressed by an infinite journeying. There was little to be seen of its rider beyond a shrunk, cloaked figure, huddling low to the saddle.
“My poor lad,” said the woman, staggering to his side, “there is a roof and a fire for you at last.”
She gave him her shoulder. The rider swayed towards it, and leaned so heavily upon her that Gamaliel, bustling forward with his aid, marvelled that he did not bear her to the ground.