That light, although very small in itself, was yet sufficient to dissipate the darkness that was in the place, and by it Blodget with great satisfaction looked around him, and was quite convinced that he was in the suite of rooms in the occupation of Inez.
There was one circumstance that to him was quite convincing on that head, for on the chimney-piece was a small but finely painted miniature of Monteagle.
‘Yes,’ whispered Blodget, as he drew a long breath, ‘I am on the right scent now.’
Immediately opposite to the window there was a door that seemed to lead to the next apartment. It was a very ticklish thing indeed to open that door.
Before he could at all make up his mind to do so, he tried to peep through the key-hole of it, but, unfortunately, there was on the other side a piece of pendant brass that blocked it up, so he saw nothing.
Delay, though, to him now was something worse than danger—it might be fatal; so with a feeling almost of desperation, he turned the handle of the door and opened it.
It led into a room that was, like the last one, dimly lighted by a night-lamp in a niche in the wall.
‘She is fond of light,’ thought Blodget.
There was a door in the side wall of this room, and that door was a little way open.
Through it Blodget could see the bed-curtain.