I was curious and fearful alike. I walked back to the middle of the road. The smoke came from the chimney in a thicker volume than before. I shifted in my mind to reason out the situation. When I had considered every side of it, I laughed at my fears.
“It is only some poor peasant,” I thought, “—probably too deaf to hear.”
With my mind fixed I strode boldly back. I knocked more loudly and resolutely than before. But no sound came. I waited a moment and knocked again. The only answer was the cawing of a crow that passed soaring over my head. My impatience burst its bounds. I took the latch in my hand, thinking to rattle it, when to my surprise the door yielded to my touch. As by some magic it swung slowly open and I beheld the interior of the room.
I expected to find the place within as uninviting as it was without. A fire was burning at the far end and over it hung on a chain a pot which was bubbling and boiling and giving out a most savory odor. At the side of the wall stood a chair, but of the kind you might think belonged not in a peasant’s hut but in the palace of a king. It was of the finest make. The legs and back were curved and scrolled and gilded like new and the cushions of a velvet delicately blue. In that one flash I saw, too, a table standing in the middle of the room. The top reflected the shine of the fire, for it was polished like wax.
If I was surprised at the first glance, I was the more amazed as my eyes got accustomed to the semi-darkness of the interior. The walls, instead of being black or grimy were as white and cheerful as though they were entirely new and instead of the stone flags which I expected to find, the floor was laid in the smoothest wood.
“Whoever lives here,” I said half aloud, “has gone out for a while. I’ll take a seat. When they return, we can strike a bargain for a lodging for the night.”
To suit the purpose I shut the door. It was swinging slowly when of a sudden it was dashed past my face and struck the door-jam with a bang. The unexpectedness of it made me wink. When I opened my eyes there was a man standing before me. His brows were drawn into an ugly frown. The look on his face was of the blackness of night. His jaws were set but his lips were curled back in a snarl and his fists knotted in anger as though he was about to strike.
“Dog!” The word came from between his teeth in a hiss.
I was so taken unawares that I retreated a step. I glared helplessly at him. Then a bitter smile of hatred slowly crossed his features like that of a savage who has run down an enemy.
“So,” he drawled, “you’ve proved the mouse at last.”