I listened intently, but all was silent as death. I longed for human voices, but I could hear none. No sound reached me but the roar of distant surf, but it was a strangely muffled sound.
"I am by the sea somewhere," I muttered; "but where?"
Then my heart gave a bound, for I heard the echo of distant footsteps. They sounded strangely, just as one's footsteps sound at night when walking through an empty church. They came nearer and nearer, until they came close to where I lay. Then I was sure that some one was coming to me.
CHAPTER XV
MY EXPERIENCE IN MY PRISON—I AM TOLD TERRIBLE NEWS ABOUT NAOMI
I looked eagerly toward the direction from which I had heard the sound, and saw a door opening. A little old man entered. Evidently he was a serving-man, just as one sees in most old houses. Even then I concluded that he was one who had spent most of his life in some well-ordered house. His clothes were spotlessly clean, the buckles on his shoes shone, his stockings were without blemish. His wig, too, was powdered carefully, and all his linen was faultless.
All this made me wonder the more greatly as to where I was.
He met my questioning look calmly, and looked at me critically.