There was a hearth, but with no fire on it, and John decided that he would sleep in the house.

It was in a lonely place, but he would take the risk.
The horse had already gone to the stable and was pushing the door with his nose.

John let him in, and found some oat straw which he gave him.
Then he left him munching in content, and as he departed he struck him a resounding blow of friendliness on the flank.
"Good old Marne," he said, "you're certainly one of the best friends I've found in Europe.

In fact, you're about the only living being I've associated with that doesn't want to kill somebody." He entered the house and closed the door.

In addition to the sitting-room there was a bedroom and a kitchen, all bearing the signs of recent occupancy.