Hussin gave an odd sort of cry, like a demented owl, and something began to stir below us.
It was a big covered wagon, full of bundles of forage, and drawn by four mules.

As we descended from the shed into the frozen litter of the yard, a man came out of the shade and spoke low to Hussin.

Peter and I lifted Blenkiron into the cart, and scrambled in beside him, and I never felt anything more blessed than the warmth and softness of that place after the frosty roofs.

I had forgotten all about my hunger, and only yearned for sleep.

Presently the wagon moved out of the courtyard into the dark streets.
Then Blenkiron began to laugh, a deep internal rumble which shook him violently and brought down a heap of forage on his head.