She fetched a saucepan, some milk, and half-a-dozen new-laid eggs. Soon the cocoa was made and poured into a big jug, the eggs just done to a turn were put upon a plate; they were brown eggs, something the color of a deep nut. "I could fancy one myself," thought Hetty; "I ain't eat nothing to speak of for hours. Oh, I do wish the pain in my side 'ud get better." She pressed her hand to the region of her heart and looked around her. The farm kitchen was now the picture of comfort--the fire blazed merrily. Hetty had lit a large paraffin lamp and placed it in the centre of the table; it lit up the cosy room, even the beams and rafters glistened in the strong light; shadows from the fire leaped up and reflected themselves on the sleeper's face. "He's very white and very still," thought Hetty; "maybe he has slept long enough. I think I'll wake him now, for supper's ready." Then came a scratching at the window outside, and the fretful howl of a dog. "There's Rover; what's the matter with him? I wish he wouldn't howl like that," thought the wife. "I hate dogs that howl. Maybe I had best let 'im in." She ran to the kitchen door, flew down the passage, and opened the door which led into the yard. "Rover, stop that noise and come along in," she called. The great dog shuffled up to her and thrust his head into her hand. She brought him into the kitchen. The moment she did so he sat down on his haunches, threw up his head, 'and began to howl again. "Nonsense, Rover, stop that noise," she said. She struck him a blow on his forehead, he cowered, looked at her sorrowfully, and then tried to lick her hand. She brought him to the fire; he came unwillingly, slinking down at last with his back to the still figure on the settle. "Queer, what's the matter with him?" thought Hetty. "They say, folks do, that dogs see things we don't; some folks say they see sperrits. Aunt would be in a fuss if Rover went on like that. Dear, I am turning nervous; fancy minding the howl of a dog. It's true my nerves ain't what they wor. Well, cocoa will spoil, and eggs will spoil, and time has come for me to wake Vincent. What a laugh we'll have together when I tell 'im of his long sleep." She approached the sofa now, but her steps dragged themselves as she went up to it and bent down over her husband and called his name. "George!" she said. "George!" He never moved. She went a little nearer, calling him louder. "George, George, wake up!" she said. "Wake, George, you've slept for over four hours. Supper is ready, George--cocoa and eggs, your favorite supper. Wake! George, wake!" The dog howled by the fire. "Rover, I'll turn you out if you make that noise again," said Hetty. She went on her knees now by the sleeping man, and shook him. His head moved when she did so and she thought he was about to open his eyes, but when she took her hands away there was not a motion, not a sound.