His suspicions were starting up again, and they grew stronger as he perceived that she was paying little attention to him, that she seemed to be listening for some expected sound. The place in which they now stood was quite dark, and Max, impatient and somewhat alarmed by the position in which he found himself, struck a match and looked round him.
"Now," said he, "find me a candle, if you can."
Even by the feeble light of the match he could see that he was in a sort of a scullery, which bore traces of recent occupation. A bit of yellow soap, some blacking and a couple of brooms in one corner, a pail and a wooden chair in another, were evidently not "tenant's fixtures."
And then Max noted a strange circumstance—the two small windows were boarded up on the inside.
By the time he had taken note of this, the girl had brought him a candle in a tin candlestick, which she had taken from a shelf by the door.
"That's the way," she said, in a voice as low a before, pointing to an inner door. "Through the back room, and into the front one. He lies in there."
Max shuddered.
"I can't say that I particularly want to see him," said he, as he took stock of her in the candle-light, and was struck by the peculiar beauty of her large blue eyes.
He felt a strong reluctance to venturing farther into this very questionable and mysterious dwelling; and he took care to stand where he could see both doors, the one which led farther into the house and the one by which he had entered.
The girl heaved a little sigh, of relief apparently. And she remained standing before him in the same attitude of listening expectancy as he had remarked in her already.