It was so very small as to be
almost sinister to a stranger, but to her it was what she sought.
She pushed forward, and the dim outline of a dwelling was
disclosed.
The house was a square cot of one story only, sloping up on all
sides to a chimney in the midst. It had formerly been the home of
a charcoal-burner, in times when that fuel was still used in the
county houses. Its only appurtenance was a paled enclosure, there
being no garden, the shade of the trees preventing the growth of
vegetables. She advanced to the window whence the rays of light
proceeded, and the shutters being as yet unclosed, she could
survey the whole interior through the panes.
The room within was kitchen, parlor, and scullery all in one; the
natural sandstone floor was worn into hills and dales by long
treading, so that none of the furniture stood level, and the table
slanted like a desk. A fire burned on the hearth, in front of
which revolved the skinned carcass of a rabbit, suspended by a
string from a nail.
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