Moreover, it was iron-barred, and at the
moment admitted no light, whether because it did not communicate
with the outer world, or because night was fallen, he was unable
to tell.
There were two doors in the room, one of very massive
construction, and the other a smaller one. The place was dimly
lighted by a brass lantern which hung from the ceiling. Harley
stood up, staggered slightly, and then sat down again.
"My God," he groaned and raised his hand to his head.
For a few moments he remained seated, victim of a deadly nausea.
Then, clenching his jaws grimly, again he stood up, and this time
succeeded in reaching the heavy door.
As he had supposed, it was firmly locked, and a glance was
sufficient to show him that his unaided effort could never force
it. He turned his attention to the smaller door, which opened at
his touch, revealing a sleeping apartment not unlike a monk's
cell, adjoining which was a tiny bathroom. Neither rooms boasted
windows, both being lighted by brass lanterns.
Harley examined them and their appointments with the utmost care,
and then returned again to the outer room, one feature of which,
and quite the most remarkable, he had reserved for special
investigation.
This was a massive screen of gilded iron scroll work, which
occupied nearly the whole of one end of the room. Beyond the
screen hung a violet-coloured curtain of Oriental fabric; but so
closely woven was the metal design that although he could touch
this curtain with his finger at certain points, it proved
impossible for him to move it aside in any way.
Pages:
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197