Her mind followed the admiral into his room, as her body had
followed him across the Banqueting-Hall.
Had he lain down again in his bed? Was he still asleep? She listened at
the door. Not a sound was audible in the room. She tried the door, and,
finding it not locked, softly opened it a few inches and listened again.
The rise and fall of his low, regular breathing instantly caught her
ear. He was still asleep.
She went into the room, and, shading th e candle-light with her hand,
approached the bedside to look at him. The dream was past; the old man's
sleep was deep and peaceful; his lips were still; his quiet hand was
laid over the coverlet in motionless repose. He lay with his face turned
toward the right-hand side of the bed. A little table stood there within
reach of his hand. Four objects were placed on it; his candle, his
matches, his customary night drink of lemonade, and his basket of keys.
The idea of possessing herself of his keys that night (if an opportunity
offered when the basket was not in his hand) had first crossed her mind
when she saw him go into his room. She had lost it again for the moment,
in the surprise of discovering the empty truckle-bed.
Pages:
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092
1093
1094
1095
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100
1101
1102
1103