It was a small, dark place, and its only defences were its outer walls. There was no moat; and it had probably belonged to some noble family of little wealth or importance, who had either fled or been murdered. The gate was lying on the ground, and the snow in the courtyard was almost waist-deep. Talabor needed all his strength to wade through it and to carry Dora up the stone steps, which he could only guess at, and had to clear with his foot as he went on. In the tolerably large room which he first entered all the furniture was half consumed by fire, and the door burnt off its hinges; the moonlight, which streamed through the open windows, showed bare, blackened walls, and a scene of general desolation. Spreading his cloak on the bench, which owed its escape from destruction to the fact that it was covered with plaster, he laid Dora down upon it, gathered up some of the broken furniture already half reduced to charcoal, and soon had a small fire burning. The smoke from it filled the whole room, but still the warmth revived his companion, who had known what it was to spend even worse nights than this one promised to be; for, when Talabor presently took a piece of burning wood from the fire, that he might explore the building, he found an old sack full of straw. The room in which he discovered it opened out of the larger one, and was not quite so desolate looking, for the fire did not seem to have penetrated so far, and, moreover, it had a large fireplace still containing the remains of charcoal and bones. Talabor lighted another fire here, drew the sack into one corner, and hurried back to Dora, who was now dozing a little, with the light from the crackling fire shining on her face. How deadly pale, how wasted it was! Talabor stood looking at her for a moment, wondering whether after all he should be able to save a life which every day was making more precious to him. He piled more wood on the fire, and tried to rub a little warmth into his own numb hands. It was the most bitter night of all their wanderings, and the cold pierced his very bones. Tired out as he was, heavy with drowsiness, he kept going from one fire to the other, as he wanted to take Dora into the smaller room when she awoke, for it was not only a degree warmer, but also free from smoke, and had a door which would shut. She opened her eyes about midnight, and seemed to be all the better for her two hours' sleep. Talabor had kept her so carefully covered, and had replenished the fire so diligently that her healthy young blood had begun to flow again, and, not for the first time, he had saved her from the more serious consequences of her exposure and fatigue. "Talabor!" she said, raising herself a little, "I have been asleep! thank you so much! Now you must rest; you must, indeed, for if your strength fails, it will be all over with us both."