"You know, husband," she answered, "we can give only to him that asks."

She turned her unchanging face and radiant eyes upon mine.

"Please give me something to eat, Mrs. Raven," I said, "and
something--what you will--to quench my thirst."

"Your thirst must be greater before you can have what will quench it,"
she replied; "but what I can give you, I will gladly."

She went to a cupboard in the wall, brought from it bread and wine, and
set them on the table.

We sat down to the perfect meal; and as I ate, the bread and wine
seemed to go deeper than the hunger and thirst. Anxiety and discomfort
vanished; expectation took their place.

I grew very sleepy, and now first felt weary.

"I have earned neither food nor sleep, Mrs. Raven," I said, "but you
have given me the one freely, and now I hope you will give me the other,
for I sorely need it."

"Sleep is too fine a thing ever to be earned," said the sexton; "it must
be given and accepted, for it is a necessity. But it would be perilous
to use this house as a half-way hostelry--for the repose of a night,
that is, merely."

A wild-looking little black cat jumped on his knee as he spoke. He
patted it as one pats a child to make it go to sleep: he seemed to me
patting down the sod upon a grave--patting it lovingly, with an inward
lullaby.

"Here is one of Mara's kittens!" he said to his wife: "will you give it
something and put it out? she may want it!"

The woman took it from him gently, gave it a little piece of bread, and
went out with it, closing the door behind her.

"How then am I to make use of your hospitality?" I asked.

"By accepting it to the full," he answered.

"I do not understand."

"In this house no one wakes of himself."

"Why?"

"Because no one anywhere ever wakes of himself. You can wake yourself no
more than you can make yourself."

"Then perhaps you or Mrs. Raven would kindly call me!" I said, still
nowise understanding, but feeling afresh that vague foreboding.

"We cannot."

"How dare I then go to sleep?" I cried.

"If you would have the rest of this house, you must not trouble yourself
about waking. You must go to sleep heartily, altogether and outright."
My soul sank within me.

The sexton sat looking me in the face. His eyes seemed to say, "Will you
not trust me?" I returned his gaze, and answered,

"I will."

"Then come," he said; "I will show you your couch."

As we rose, the woman came in. She took up the candle