"What is this place?" asked Bert, shivering as he stood in the snow of the little clearing round the hut.
But the man did not condescend to reply. He strode to the door of the hut and thumped on it with the handle of his whip.
It opened, showing the light inside, and holding the door open—Stepan the fitter. "Come in, come in!" he said, with some show of heartiness, as the lads, stiff with cold, stood shivering on the threshold. "There is a good fire in the stove here, and I will make some tea to warm you. What about the horses, Gavril?" he added, turning to Red-scar, whose real name the boys now heard for the first time.
"That means Gabriel in English, Bert," said Alf, with an attempt at a smile. "Nice specimen of an archangel, isn't he?"
"The horses?" repeated Red-scar, from the door; "the shed will be all right for them. There is plenty of straw, and I have stopped up all the cracks and mended the door, so that it shuts quite tight. Also I brought hay and oats," and he stepped to the sledge and dragged two sacks out of the front of it. "They made a good footstool for me," he added, "and kept my feet warm."
Stepan, while his companion was occupied with the horses, busied himself in making the tea.
[CHAPTER IV.]
AN UNEXPECTED FRIEND.
STEPAN took from off a rude shelf along the wall a great round black loaf, a plate of yellow salt butter, and some tin mugs big enough to hold a pint each. He out several slices of bread and butter, laying them down on a wooden platter. Then he poured out the tea and pulled a bench up to the rude table in the middle of the room.
The boys gladly took their seats, for they were chilled and hungry; and Bert was about to sip his tea when Alf touched his hand.