"Vell, you look a leedle oudt, Matt, dot's all. Oof somet'ing goes wrong mit you, led off a yell und I vill come gallywhooping."
"I don't think anything will go wrong with me if I haven't those papers in my pocket."
Carl shivered.
"Chee, but der leedle fires on der chimneys iss prighdt. Somet'ing aboudt dis blace gifs me a creepiness oof der skin. Be jeerful, be jeerful! Don'd shday in dere longer as den minids, Matt, oder I vas likely to t'row fits."
"I'll come out as soon as I can, Carl," answered Matt. "Don't fret. I'm able to take care of myself in a pinch."
"Oof you see der pinch fairst, yah, I bed you! Aber oof der pinch come ven you don'd vas looking, den vat?"
Matt laughed as he turned away, climbed a short flight of steps and drummed on the front door. He had to rap three or four times before his summons was answered.
A light showed itself through a fan-shaped transom over the door, and a hand could be heard fumbling with a rusty bolt. In a minute or so the door was drawn open and a girl stood revealed. She carried a lamp with a smoked chimney, and one of her slender hands protected the flame from the draft.
She was eighteen or nineteen years old, and, in spite of her coarse calico gown, she was extremely pretty. Her prettiness, however, was not what impressed Matt. The first thing he noticed was that the hand shielding the lamp was trembling. Lifting his eyes to the girl's face, he observed that she wore a frightened look.
"Does Mr. Jerrold live here?" Matt asked.