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It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered. But what I want to get at is this. Applying his ear to the keyhole, Jack listened, but could detect no sound. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 27-09-2024 05:11:25