During the day a dry, fine snow had fallen upon the frozen earth, and now she heard it crunching outside the window under her son's feet as he walked away.

A dense crust of darkness settled immovably upon the window panes, and seemed to lie in hostile watch for something.

Supporting herself on the bench, the mother sat and waited, looking at the door.
It seemed to her that people were stealthily and watchfully walking about the house in the darkness, stooping and looking about on all sides, strangely attired and silent.

There around the house some one was already coming, fumbling with his hands along the wall.
A whistle was heard.

It circled around like the notes of a fine chord, sad and melodious, wandered musingly into the wilderness of darkness, and seemed to be searching for something.