"Come to me, little one," cried the man, and the small creature flew into his arms; then settling himself down, his back against a tree, quite near the blazing fire, he folded the forlorn little being tightly within his arms, his cloak drawn close over her, regardless of his own comfort, only thinking how to protect her against the deadly frost of the night.
He took his sword from its sheath and laid it down beside him within reach of his hand.
Long he sat thus, trying to penetrate the darkness, whilst the rhythmic breathing of his tired charge told him that for a while oblivion had mercifully descended upon her.
But it was a weary time before he dared close his own burning eyes, so afraid was he that something dreadful might happen to the child whilst he slept.
At length Nature would have her way—his head sank on his breast, the strained arms relaxed their hold, and all the misery was wiped from his mind by the kindly wings of sleep.
XVI
Eric awoke because the intensity of the cold was eating into his bones. The fire had died down, only a faint glow remained under the ashes; and there, oh horror!... seated on the other side of the small smouldering heap that once had been their protection, sat a great tawny wolf with eyes that looked straight into his, two tiny specks of phosphorescent green.
The awful beast lifted its head and gave a long-drawn, unearthly yell that echoed round the silence like the crying of a tormented soul in great agony; again and again he sent out his ghastly call, and now he was answered by other calls coming from every part of that fearful forest. The silent thickets gave forth from their secret depths stealthy pattering forms, slinking along, flashing their teeth, their tongues lolling from their dripping mouths.