Time had cracked and warped its
planks, but pieces had been nailed across weak places, giving the hut a
botched and tumble-down appearance but keeping it weather-tight. The hut
was divided into a shed for tools and storage, or perhaps for stabling a
horse upon occasion, and a larger chamber which served as a dwelling.
From a hole in the roof of this part a thin wreath of smoke was curling
upwards towards the overhanging trees, losing itself in their foliage.
Twilight came early here, and the great world seemed shut out
altogether.
Presently the door of the hut opened, but he was no charcoal-burner who
stood on the threshold, listening and looking up at the sky above the
clearing. His hair was white, his figure a little bent, and there was an
anxious look upon his face, a permanent expression rather than one
caused by any tardy arrival this evening. The man he waited for was too
erratic in his goings and comings to make a few hours', or even a day's,
delay a cause of wonder.
He went back into the hut, but in half an hour or so came to the door
again. He was not a woodsman used to distinguishing sounds at a long
distance, and the sound that presently reached him was close by.
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