A Most Humble Abode

Who is it that knocks on my door? It is nearly midnight and not a single creature stirs about Yet, I hear a faint tapping of feet upon my cedar floor Assuredly, my mind lends to perception, a sense of doubt Lo, a man stands before me His hands very much contused In better light, I come to observe the somber face I see A broken man indeed, very much confused I extended to the visitor, a kind greeting One, of a most humble nature The ailing man appears to have received some sort of beating Perhaps he was involved in an unsettled wager? This guest of mine spoke clearly now, and his words were of fright The man was my brother, whom I attended to on this dreadful night