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” She was silent, and in the gloom of the dimly lit apartment he could not see her face. "You're a bold fellow, Jack," rejoined the blacksmith. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. They then took off their boots, and crept stealthily up stairs, treading upon the point of their toes so cautiously, that not a board creaked beneath their weight. Gerald was instantly on the alert.
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