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Updated: June 8, 2025
Lester and White finished their cups with irritating slowness, pausing between sips to sniff the aroma, and to discover the sex and dates of arrival of the "strangers" which floated in some numbers in the beverage. Mr. Meagle served them to the brim, and then, turning to the grimly expectant Mr. Barnes, blandly requested him to ring for hot water.
He started up with a smothered exclamation as the light went out suddenly and something struck him on the head. The others sprang to their feet. Then Meagle laughed. "It's the candle," he exclaimed. "I didn't stick it enough." Barnes struck a match and relighting the candle stuck it on the mantelpiece, and sitting down took up his cards again. "What was I going to say?" said Meagle.
Pipes were lit and the clean, wholesome smell of tobacco filled the room. White produced a pack of cards; talk and laughter rang through the room and died away reluctantly in distant corridors. "Empty rooms always delude me into the belief that I possess a deep voice," said Meagle. "To-morrow "
"Let me see; this desirable residential sepulchre lies to the right, doesn't it?" "Farther on," said Meagle. They walked on for some time in silence, broken only by White's tribute to the softness, the cleanliness, and the comfort of the bed which was receding farther and farther into the distance.
"It's no good," said Meagle seriously; "there's something wrong about that sleep." "That's what I meant," said Lester; "and if he goes to sleep like that, why shouldn't " Meagle sprang to his feet. "Nonsense," he said roughly. "He's tired out; that's all. Still, let's take him up and clear out. You take his legs and Barnes will lead the way with the candle. Yes? Who's that?"
"Barnes!" he whispered. "Barnes!" Something stirred in the darkness. A small circular window at the end of the passage just softened the blackness and revealed the dim outlines of a motionless figure. Meagle, in place of advancing, stood almost as still as a sudden horrible doubt took possession of him.
Pipes were lit and the clean, wholesome smell of tobacco filled the room. White produced a pack of cards; talk and laughter rang through the room and died away reluctantly in distant corridors. "Empty rooms always delude me into the belief that I possess a deep voice," said Meagle. "To-morrow "
"I don't believe it was open," said Lester, hanging back. "Somebody is playing us a trick." "Nonsense," said Meagle sharply. "Give me a candle. Thanks. Who's got a match?" Barnes produced a box and struck one, and Meagle, shielding the candle with his hand, led the way forward to the foot of the stairs. "Shut the door, somebody," he said, "there's too much draught."
Barnes, who had taken the candle from the mantel-piece, stood peering at the sleepers in silence and dropping tallow over the floor. "We must get out of this," said Meagle. "Quick!" Barnes hesitated. "We can't leave them here " he began. "We must," said Meagle in strident tones. "If you go to sleep I shall go Quick! Come." He seized the other by the arm and strove to drag him to the door.
Not until they had become inaudible in the distance did the listeners' features relax. "Good Lord, Lester, we've driven him mad," he said in a frightened whisper. "We must go after him." There was no reply. Meagle sprung to his feet. "Do you hear?" he cried. "Stop your fooling now; this is serious. White! Lester! Do you hear?" He bent and surveyed them in angry bewilderment.
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