Adeline, whom the roaring of the tempest made more melancholy than usual, had not left her room during the day. Catherine had brought Ermance downstairs and put her to bed beside her mother, who was sitting in a chair and refused to retire so early, despite the old servant’s entreaties. The master of the house was playing his usual game with Dupré, and Lucas had just taken up his great book, when the bell at the gate rang loudly.
“Somebody is ringing,” said Monsieur Gerval; “company so late as this, and in such weather!”
“It is very strange!” repeated Lucas.
“Shall I open the door, monsieur?” asked Dupré.
“Why, we must find out first who it is; it may be travellers who have got lost in the mountains and cannot go any farther, or some unfortunate creature whom the villagers have sent to me, as they sometimes do. I hear Catherine coming, she will tell us who it is.”
Catherine had been to the door to look out, and she came up again to take her master’s orders.
“Monsieur,” she said, “it is three travellers, three peddlers, it would seem, for they have bales on their backs. They ask for shelter for to-night, as they cannot go on, because there are more than two feet of snow on the road. One of them is a poor old man who seems to suffer much from the cold. Shall I let them in?”
“Certainly, and we will do our best for them.”
“But, monsieur,” said Dupré, “three men, at night—that is rather imprudent!”
“Why so, Dupré? They are peddlers and one of them is old; what have we to fear? It is perfectly natural that they should seek shelter in bad weather; ought I to leave people to lose their way among these mountains, for fear of entertaining vagabonds? Ah! my friend, if it were necessary to read the hearts of those whom one succors, one would do good too seldom! Go and let them in quickly, Catherine; do not leave these travellers at the gate any longer; and do you, Dupré, make a big fire so that they may dry themselves; and Lucas will prepare the small room which I always reserve for visitors.”