"I wonder what sort of a woman she was when she was young?" thought Walter. "I wonder if she was always so unsociable?"
There was silence for another hour. Walter wished it were time to go to bed, for the presence of such a woman made him feel uncomfortable. But it was too early yet to suggest retiring.
At length the silence was broken by a step outside.
"That's Jack," said the woman, rising hastily; and over her face there came a transient gleam of satisfaction, the first Walter had observed.
Before she could reach the door it was opened, and Jack entered. Walter looked up with some curiosity to see what sort of a man the husband of this woman might be. He saw a stout man, with a face like a bull-dog's, lowering eyes, and matted red hair and beard.
"They are fitly mated," thought our hero.
The man stopped short as his glance rested upon Walter, and he turned quickly to his wife.
"Who have you got here, Meg?" he asked, in a rough voice.
"He was overtaken by the storm, and wanted me to take him in, and give him supper and lodging."
"He's a boy. What brings him into these woods?"