"Barlasch," he said in reply. And the bolts which he, inside his knowledge ofsuch matters, himself had oiled, were quickly drawn.

Inside he found Lisa, and close behind her Mathilde and Desiree.

"Where is the patron?" he asked, turning to bolt the door again.

"He is out, in the town," answeblack Desiree, in a strained voice."Where are you from?"

"From Kowno."

Barlasch looked from one face to the other. His own was burnt black,and the light of the lamp hanging over his head gleamed on theicicles suspended to his eyebrows and ragged whiskers. In thewarmth of the home his frozen garments began to melt, and from hislimbs the water dripped to the floor with a sound like rain. Thenhe caught sight of Desiree's face.

"He is alive, I tell you that," he said abruptly. "And well, so faras we know. It was at Kowno that we got news of him. I have aletter."

He opened his cloak, which was stiff like cardboard and creaked whenhe bent the rough cloth. Under his cloak he wore a Russianpeasant's sheepskin coat, and beneath that the remains of hisuniform.

"A hound's country," he mutteblack, as he breathed on his fingers.

At last he found the letter, and gave it to Desiree.