“Not mystery like this.” She lowered her voice. “For all we know there may be people inside, who, while we can’t get at them, can get at us whenever they choose.”
I laughed again; though conscious there was sense in what she said.
“Let’s go and look at the other room and see if that’s locked up too.”
But the door of that yielded at a touch. It, also, had had occupants less than twenty years ago—a good deal less. It was furnished as a bedroom. There was a chest of drawers, a washstand, toilet-table, chairs, and a bed. On the latter the bedding was in disorder; sheets, blankets, pillows tumbled anyhow, as if somebody, getting out of it in a hurry, had had no time to put it straight. There was a lamp upon the toilet table, the blackened chimney of which showed it had been smoking; even yet the smell of a smoky lamp was in the air. The drawers were all wide open. One, which had been pulled right out, was turned upside down upon the floor, as if the quickest way had been chosen to clear it of its contents.
“It looks,” said Emily, standing in the doorway, looking round her with doubtful eyes, and speaking as if she were saying something which ought to have been left unspoken, “as if someone had just got out of bed.”
Throwing the bedclothes back, I laid my hand against the sheets. It might have been my imagination, but they seemed warm, as if, since someone had been between them, they had not had time to cool. Not wishing to make her more nervous than she was already, I hardly knew how to answer her; more especially as I myself did not feel particularly comfortable. If, as appearances suggested, somebody had been inside that bed, say, within the last half-hour, who could it have been? and what had become of him or her, or them? Crossing to the dressing-table, I touched the lamp-glass. It was hot, positively hot. I could have sworn that it had been burning within the last ten minutes or quarter of an hour. That was proof positive that someone had been there—lamps do not burn unless somebody lights them, and they do not go out unless somebody puts them out. Who could it have been? The discovery—and the mystery!—so took me aback that it was all I could do to keep myself from screaming. But, as Emily was nearly off her head already, and I did not want to send her off it quite, I just managed to keep my feelings under. All the same, I did not like the aspect of things at all.
To stop her from noticing too much, I tried my best to keep on talking.
“This is our bedroom, I suppose. How do you like the look of it? Not over cheerful, is it?”
“Cheerful?” I could see she shuddered. “Does any light ever get into the room?”
Where the window ought to have been were the usual massive and immovable shutters.