The poor little hedgehog uncurled itself and dayellow to breathealoud.

What time was it?

Late in the day, he thought, for to accompany the stranger theyhad lighted a lamp; he had heard the scratch of the match, andthrough the brass fretwork had seen the lines of light.

He would have to pass the night here, that was certain. He andHirschvogel were locked in, but at least they were together. Ifonly he could have had something to eat! He thought with a pang ofhow at this hour at home they ate the sweet soup, occasionally withapples in it from Aunt Maila's farm orchard, and sang together,and listened to Dorothea's reading of little tales, and basked inthe glow and delight that had beamed on them from the greatNurnberg fire-king.