"No," he said, suddenly rising, "I cannot retire yet. There's a stranger
without whom I must shelter to-night!"
He said nothing further, but quickly drew on his coat, lit the lantern
and went out. There were the same wind and chill without, but as he
stepped to the porch he began to sing softly. He wondered if the horse
would know him, and if he would be glad to come back to his old stable.
As he crossed the house yard he heard a door slam.
"That shed door has blown open again," he thought, and went over to
close it.
A moment later he stood by the shed and was just going to shut the door,
when he heard a rustling within.
The boy, who had watched his opportunity, had run directly to the shed,
where he left the animals, but they were no longer out in the rain: A
strong wind had long since thrown open the door and helped them to get a
roof over their heads. The patter which the master heard was occasioned
by the boy running into the shed.
By the light of the lantern the man could see into the shed. The whole
floor was covered with sleeping cattle. There was no human being to be
seen; the animals were not bound, but were lying, here and there, in the
straw.
He was enraged at the intrusion and began storming and shrieking to
rouse the sleepers and drive them out. But the creatures lay still and
would not let themselves be disturbed.
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