'Then, the old woman pointed to a bed of heather in one corner with
a murmured apology; and the student, wearied both with the fatigues
of the day and the strangeness of the night, threw himself upon it,
wrapped in his cloak. The moment he lay down, the storm began
afresh, and the wind blew so keenly through the crannies of the hut,
that it was only by drawing his cloak over his head that he could
protect himself from its currents. Unable to sleep, he lay
listening to the uproar which grew in violence, till the spray was
dashing against the window. At length the door opened, and the
young woman came in, made up the fire, drew the bench before it, and
lay down in the same strange posture, with her chin propped on her
hand and elbow, and her face turned towards the youth. He moved a
little; she dropped her head, and lay on her face, with her arms
crossed beneath her forehead. The mother had disappeared.
'Drowsiness crept over him. A movement of the bench roused him, and
he fancied he saw some four-footed creature as tall as a large dog
trot quietly out of the door. He was sure he felt a rush of cold
wind. Gazing fixedly through the darkness, he thought he saw the
eyes of the damsel encountering his, but a glow from the falling
together of the remnants of the fire, revealed clearly enough that
the bench was vacant. Wondering what could have made her go out in
such a storm, he fell fast asleep.
'In the middle of the night he felt a pain in his shoulder, came
broad awake, and saw the gleaming eyes and grinning teeth of some
animal close to his face.
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