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It

rose

under

my

hand

,

and

the

door

yielded

.

Looking

in

,

I

saw

a

lighted

candle

on

a

table

,

a

bench

,

and

a

mattress

on

a

truckle

bedstead

.

As

there

was

a

loft

above

,

I

called

,

"

Is

there

any

one

here

?

"

but

no

voice

answered

.

Then

I

looked

at

my

watch

,

and

,

finding

that

it

was

past

nine

,

called

again

,

"

Is

there

any

one

here

?

"

There

being

still

no

answer

,

I

went

out

at

the

door

,

irresolute

what

to

do

.

It

was

beginning

to

rain

fast

.

Seeing

nothing

save

what

I

had

seen

already

,

I

turned

back

into

the

house

,

and

stood

just

within

the

shelter

of

the

doorway

,

looking

out

into

the

night

.

While

I

was

considering

that

some

one

must

have

been

there

lately

and

must

soon

be

coming

back

,

or

the

candle

would

not

be

burning

,

it

came

into

my

head

to

look

if

the

wick

were

long

.

I

turned

round

to

do

so

,

and

had

taken

up

the

candle

in

my

hand

,

when

it

was

extinguished

by

some

violent

shock

;

and

the

next

thing

I

comprehended

was

,

that

I

had

been

caught

in

a

strong

running

noose

,

thrown

over

my

head

from

behind

.

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"

Now

,

"

said

a

suppressed

voice

with

an

oath

,

"

I

’

ve

got

you

!

"

"

What

is

this

?

"

I

cried

,

struggling

.

"

Who

is

it

?

Help

,

help

,

help

!

"

Not

only

were

my

arms

pulled

close

to

my

sides

,

but

the

pressure

on

my

bad

arm

caused

me

exquisite

pain

.

Sometimes

,

a

strong

man

’

s

hand

,

sometimes

a

strong

man

’

s

breast

,

was

set

against

my

mouth

to

deaden

my

cries

,

and

with

a

hot

breath

always

close

to

me

,

I

struggled

ineffectually

in

the

dark

,

while

I

was

fastened

tight

to

the

wall

.

"

And

now

,

"

said

the

suppressed

voice

with

another

oath

,

"

call

out

again

,

and

I

’

ll

make

short

work

of

you

!

"

Faint

and

sick

with

the

pain

of

my

injured

arm

,

bewildered

by

the

surprise

,

and

yet

conscious

how

easily

this

threat

could

be

put

in

execution

,

I

desisted

,

and

tried

to

ease

my

arm

were

it

ever

so

little

.

But

,

it

was

bound

too

tight

for

that

.

I

felt

as

if

,

having

been

burnt

before

,

it

were

now

being

boiled

.

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The

sudden

exclusion

of

the

night

,

and

the

substitution

of

black

darkness

in

its

place

,

warned

me

that

the

man

had

closed

a

shutter

.

After

groping

about

for

a

little

,

he

found

the

flint

and

steel

he

wanted

,

and

began

to

strike

a

light

.

I

strained

my

sight

upon

the

sparks

that

fell

among

the

tinder

,

and

upon

which

he

breathed

and

breathed

,

match

in

hand

,

but

I

could

only

see

his

lips

,

and

the

blue

point

of

the

match

;

even

those

but

fitfully

.

The

tinder

was

damp

—

no

wonder

there

—

and

one

after

another

the

sparks

died

out

.

The

man

was

in

no

hurry

,

and

struck

again

with

the

flint

and

steel

.

As

the

sparks

fell

thick

and

bright

about

him

,

I

could

see

his

hands

,

and

touches

of

his

face

,

and

could

make

out

that

he

was

seated

and

bending

over

the

table

;

but

nothing

more

.

Presently

I

saw

his

blue

lips

again

,

breathing

on

the

tinder

,

and

then

a

flare

of

light

flashed

up

,

and

showed

me

Orlick

.

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