He crossed a brook, frozen almost solidly in its bed, and he saw two or three large mounds that had been haystacks, now covered with snow.
Then he slid without noise back to the nearest of the houses from which the smoke came.

It was rather more pretentious than the others, built of planks instead of logs, and with shingles for a roof.

The remains of a small portico formed the approach to the front door.

Henry supposed that the house had been set on fire and that perhaps a heavy rain had saved a part of it.
A bar of light falling across the snow attracted his attention.

He knew that it was the glow of a fire within coming through a window.