“If you can give us beds, that’s all we’ll trouble you for,” said Ben.
There was some grumbling at this between the man and woman; but finally the former lighted a candle and nodded for the lads to follow him.
“But take care of the stairs,” he said, as they ascended a crazy flight of them; “they are somewhat old and worn, and we would not have an accident happen for the world.”
“Why, then,” spoke Paddy Burk, as he felt, with no little trepidation, the stairs tremble under his feet, “if you are as nervous about it as all that, it’s queer that you don’t repair them.”
The man grinned at him over his lean shoulder.
“They don’t belong to me,” he said. “We are tenants of this place, and the owner should make the repairs.”
They reached the second floor through a trap-door and found themselves in a low ceilinged room with cobwebs hanging from the rafters and the window-panes smutted and broken. Two beds of straw were upon the floor in opposite corners, and the boys looked at them askance. However, they were accustomed to much worse in the camp, and so said nothing.
“I’ll leave the candle with you,” said the man as he stood upon the shaky stairs, his head and shoulders protruding through the trap. “We rise early in the morning,” he continued, “and I suppose you’ll want to make an early start.”
“Yes,” said Ben, “and if you do not hear us moving about, landlord, arouse us.”
The man said that he would, lowered the trap-door and disappeared.