"What hell hound hath done this to you ?" "The wife of my bosom," quoth very grimly Caesar the cripple.
"A good evening to you, gentlemen all," said a soft and winning voice from the doorway.
At the sound the old man staggered, reeled, and would have swayed into the fire had not Sholto seized him and dragged him out upon the floor.
All rose to their feet.
In the doorway of the cottage stood an old woman, small, smiling, delicate of feature.

She looked benignly upon them and continued to smile.

Her hair and her eyes were her most noticeable features.

The former was abundant and hung loosely about the woman's brow and over her shoulders in wisps of a curious greenish white, the colour almost of mouldy cheese, while, under shaggy white eyebrows, her large eyes shone piercing and green as emerald stones on the hand of some dusky monarch of the Orient.
The old woman it was who spoke first, before any of the men could recover from their surprise.
"My husband," she said, still calmly smiling upon them, "my poor husband has doubtless been telling you his foolish tales.

The saints have permitted him to become demented.