There is nothing to fear." I noticed that the wound had opened, and his white hair was stained with blood.
"It is the death-coach," cried my grandmother.
"What matter, if it comes for both of us ?" he said.
"It is not the death-coach," I cried.

"It is a friend, some one come to our help.

Look at Dido! She would be frightened if it were the death-coach.

See how she listens!" Above the crying of the storm there came a tremendous rat-tat on the knocker of the hall door..