“Did you expect to see bare prison walls and a stone floor?” he asked, when he had recovered his breath. “I don’t know that I blame you, though. The outside of the place does look pretty fierce, but I had special reasons for wanting it that way, and I tried to make up for it as well as possible inside.”
He opened a door to the left of the hall and stood aside for them to enter.
“This is my library and general lounging room,” he explained. “It takes up this whole side of the house.”
The room, a good fifty feet long and half as wide, was lined with bookshelves crowded to overflowing. A great stone fireplace occupied the centre of the outside wall, a piano stood in one corner, and all about were scattered comfortable chairs and couches, together with several tables on which were shaded electric lamps. The floor was covered with rugs and skins of various sorts.
“What a dandy room!” Dick exclaimed enthusiastically. “I don’t know when I’ve seen one more homelike or attractive.”
“It’s where I rest from my labors and enjoy myself,” Randolph said lightly. “We’ll settle down here after dinner and have a good talk.”
He led the way to the hall again and started upstairs. Then he seemed to change his mind.
“Let’s have dinner first and do that afterward,” he said. “Aren’t you fellows hungry?”
Confessing that they might be induced to partake of food, they followed him through the door opposite the one leading into the library. Though not quite two-thirds the size of the big room, the dining room was still spacious. The furniture was of dark oak, simple but substantially made, the table being spread with a spotless linen cloth and lighted with shaded candles in silver candlesticks. There were places laid for three; a large, oblong chafing dish stood at one end, while in the middle of the table were several covered dishes.
Randolph motioned them to their places, taking his seat in front of the chafing dish.