This may be my room," he said, opening the door.
"It is rough, the room is rough; not a palace--not quite.

But it may be better than the fields, a little better!" he said, glancing round at his companion.

"Come in, come in.

There is something to eat--a mouthful: not the fare of emperors or kings; but we do not starve, not yet," he said, rubbing his hands together and looking round with a pleased, half-nervous smile on his old face.
"My friend, my dear friend," said the stranger, seizing him by the hand, "may the Lord bless you, the Lord bless and reward you--the God of the fatherless and the stranger.

But for you I would this night have slept in the fields, with the dews of heaven upon my head." Late that evening Lyndall came down to the cabin with the German's rations.