"
And how welcome was the small red ray that told of the shepherd's
cottage just below the juncture of the Geinig and Aivron. It was a
cheerful beacon; it spoke of human association and companionship; the
moan of the hurrying Aivron seemed to have less of boding in it now. It
is true they still had the two fords to encounter, and another long and
weary tramp, before they got back to the lodge; but here at least was
some assurance that they were out of those storm-haunted solitudes where
the night was now holding high revel. That ray of light streaming from
the solitary little window seemed to Lionel a blessed thing; it served
to dissipate the horrors of this murmuring and threatening blackness all
around him; it cheered and warmed his heart; it was a joyful assurance
that they were on the right way for home. When they reached the cottage,
they knocked at the door; and presently there was a delightful, ruddy
glow in the midst of the dark. Would the gentleman not come in and warm
himself at the fire and get his clothes dried? No: Lionel said that
getting wet through once was better than getting wet through twice; he
would go on as he was. But might he have a glass of milk? The shepherd
disappeared, and returned with a tumbler of milk and a piece of oatcake;
and never in his life had the famous baritone from the far city of
London tasted anything sweeter, for he was half-dead with hunger.
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