"
"I don't think I could venture--" hesitated the boy. But he felt so
sorry for the poor beasts that he wanted at least to try.
He ran into the strange barn yard and saw at once that all the outhouses
were locked and the keys gone. He stood there, puzzled and helpless,
when aid came to him from an unexpected source. A gust of wind came
sweeping along with terrific force and flung open a shed door right in
front of him.
The boy was not long in getting back to the horse.
"It isn't possible to get into the barn or the cow house," he said, "but
there's a big, empty hay shed that they have forgotten to bolt. I can
lead you into that."
"Thank you!" said the horse. "It will seem good to sleep once more on
familiar ground. It's the only happiness I can expect in this life."
Meanwhile, at the flourishing farm opposite the inn, the family sat up
much later than usual that evening.
The master of the place was a man of thirty-five, tall and dignified,
with a handsome but melancholy face. During the day he had been out in
the rain and had got wet, like every one else, and at supper he asked
his old mother, who was still mistress of the place, to light a fire on
the hearth that he might dry his clothes. The mother kindled a feeble
blaze--for in that house they were not wasteful with wood--and the
master hung his coat on the back of a chair, and placed it before the
fire.
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