Casting his eye along it, he made out the dark indistinct outline of a hut, standing about forty yards off.
He rode up to it.

All was as still as death.

No man came out to welcome him, no dog jumped, barking forth, no smoke went up from the chimney; and, looking round, he saw that the track ended here, and that he had ridden all these miles only to find a deserted hut.
But was it deserted?
Not very long so, for those two horsemen, whose tracks he had been on so long, had started from here.

Here, on this bare spot in front of the door, they had mounted.

One of their horses had been capering; nay, here were their footsteps on the threshold.
And, while he looked, there was a light fall inside, and the chimney began smoking.