t filled the warming-pan with glowing embers, shut down the
lid and thrust it between the sheets to warm the couch of this luxurious
Old Hurricane. The old man continued to toast his feet, sip his punch
and smack his lips. He finished his glass, set it down, and was just in
the act of drawing on his woolen nightcap, preparatory to stepping into
his well-warmed bed when he was suddenly startled by a loud ringing of
the hall-door bell.

"What the foul fiend can that mean at this time of night?" exclaimed
Old Hurricane, dropping his nightcap and turning sharply around toward
Wool, who, warming-pan in hand, stood staring with astonishment. "What
does that mean, I ask you?"

"'Deed, I dunno, sar, less it's some benighted traveler in search o'
shelter outen de storm!"

"Humph! and in search of supper, too, of course, and everybody gone away
or gone to bed but you and me!"

At this moment the ringing was followed by a loud knocking.

"Marse, don't less you and me listen to it, and then we ain't 'bliged to
'sturb ourselves with answering of it!" suggested Wool.

"'Sdeath, sir! Do you think that I am going to turn a deaf ear to a
stranger that comes to my house for shelter on such a night as this? Go
and answer the bell directly."

"Yes, sar."

"But stop--look here, sirrah--mind I am not to be disturbed. If it is a
traveler, ask him in, set refreshments before him and show him to bed.
I'm not going to leave my warm room to welcome anybody to-night, please
the Lord. Do you hear?"

"Yes, sar," said the darkey, retreating.

As Wool took a shaded taper and opened the door leading from his
master's chamber, the wind was heard howling through the long passages,
ready to burst into the cozy bedroom.

"Shut that door, you scoundrel!" roared the old man, folding the skirt
of his warm dressing-gown across his knees, and hovering closer to the
fire.

Wool quickly obeyed, and was heard retreating down the steps.

"Whew!" said the old man, spreading his hands over the blaze with a look
of comfortable appreciation. "What would induce me to go abroad on such
a night as this? Wind blowing great guns from the northwest--snow
falling fast from the heavens and rising just as fast before the wind
from the ground--cold as Lapland, dark as Erebus! No telling the earth
from the sky. Whew!" and to comfort the cold thought, Old Hurricane
poured out another glass of smoking punch and began to sip it.

"How I thank the Lord that I am not