Before the door stood a covered sledge, and by it was an old man who called for help.
As soon as the stranger saw the two men coming to him, he lifted his wife, who had fainted, out of the sledge, and the old servant helped the terrified daughter, a beautiful girl, to alight.
They put on more wood, and brought the fainted lady round, and the master of the house, pleased to be able to show hospitality, went and fetched some old wine in order to drink the strangers’ healths. The old servant laughed to himself as he marked his master’s joyful face. The strange guest, cheered by the wine, told how they had lost their way, how they had fallen in with a pack of hungry wolves, and how their fleet horse had carried them to the White House.
Towards night the luggage was taken out of the sledge, and the wearied travellers retired to rest in warm, comfortable chambers. All was still in the White House, save that the fire now and then sent forth a glimmering flame.
III.
It was within an hour of midnight, and the old servant was asleep by the fireside, when the door of his master’s bedchamber opened and the unhappy man trod lightly into the hall. The old servant, wondering whether he was dreaming, rubbed his eyes, and said—
“What, cannot my master sleep?”
“Be quiet, old friend!” said his master in a joyful voice. “I cannot sleep, and do not wish to sleep when I am so happy as I now am.”
And he sat down in a big arm-chair by the fireside, smiled, and commenced to weep.
“Weep, poor master, weep,” said Stanislas to himself. “Maybe you may weep your evil eyes away.”