Impelled as
well, perhaps, by anxiety as necessity, Tite resolved to push on to the
very door. Leaving the men with orders to follow him at a short
distance, he proceeded on cautiously until he reached the edge of the
opening in which the cabin stood.
He was now within a few paces of the door, when the fowls, which seemed
to abound in the vicinity, discovering him, sounded the alarm. The cabin
door now opened, and there stood, in the shadow of the light, the figure
of an old man bent with age, and dressed in the skin of a wolf, the long
fur of which gave him more the appearance of an animal than a human
being. His face was like colored parchment, his mouth and cheeks
wrinkled and sunken, his eyes small, black and bright, his long, white
hair and flowing beard, his bony hands, which he raised every few
moments and held over his long white eyelashes, as a shield to his
sight, gave him a strange and witch-like appearance.
There the two men, the figure in the door and Tite, stood for several
minutes gazing in silence, but with a look of astonishment, at each
other.
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