His long gaunt jaws rested on the woodman's knee; and sometimes he turned his contemplative eyes upon the fire, seeming to watch it, and muse upon its nature; and sometimes he raised them with a sleepy but affectionate look to his master's face, as if he would fain have spoken to him and asked him, "What shall we do next?" Not a look did the poor hound get for some time, however, for his master had other things to think of; but at last the good man laid his hand upon the shaggy head, and said "Honest and true, and the only one!" He then resumed his musing again, till at length the dog rose up, and, with slow and stately steps, advanced to the door, and putting down his nose, seemed to snuff the air from without. The woodman lifted up his head and listened; but the only sounds which were audible were those produced by the footfalls of a horse at a distance; and, turning round to the fire again with a well-pleased look, the woodman murmured, "Good. He is coming this way." He did not budge from his settle, however, nor seem to pay much attention, till the rapid footfalls of the horse seemed to cease altogether, or turn, in a different direction. Then he looked up and said, "That is strange. He cannot have missed his way after having twice found it before." He listened attentively; but still there was no sound audible to his ear; and it was the dog who first discovered that a stranger was approaching. A low growl and then a fierce sharp bark were the intimations which he gave, as soon as his ear caught the sound of a step, and his master immediately called him to him, saying, "Hither, Ban, hither. Down to foot--down, sir;" and the obedient hound immediately stretched himself out at length beside the fire. The woodman, in the mean time, gave an attentive ear, and at length distinguished the steps of a man approaching, mixed occasionally with the slow fall of horses' hoofs upon turfy ground, where the iron shoe from time to time struck against a pebble, but otherwise made no noise. Nevertheless he sat still till the noise, after becoming louder and louder, stopped suddenly, as if the traveller had paused upon a small green which stretched out before the door, comparatively open and free from trees for the space of about three quarters of an acre, although here and there a solitary beech rose out of the turf, overshadowing the greater part of the space. No brushwood was there, however, and the small forest road traversed the green on its way towards the distant town, spreading out into a wide sort of sandy track, nearly opposite to the woodman's house. As soon as the sound of footsteps ceased, the first inhabitant of the cottage strode across, and threw open the door, demanding, "Who goes there?"