He did not dash from the place, however, as he had from the
liquor-saloon. A spirit of resistance had seized him and he demanded to
know where this object of his fear had come from. No one could tell him
(or would). Whereupon he began to rave and would certainly have done
himself or somebody else an injury if he had not been calmed by a man
almost as wild-looking as himself. Paying his bill, but vowing he would
never enter the place again, he went out, clay-white, but with the
swaggering air of a man who had just asserted himself.
He drooped, however, as soon as he reached the street, and I had no
difficulty in following him to a certain gambling den where he gained
three dollars and lost five. From there he went to his lodgings in West
Tenth Street.
I did not follow him in. He had passed through many deep and wearing
emotions since noon, and I had not the heart to add another to them.
But late the next day I returned to this house and rang the bell. It was
already dusk, but there was light enough for me to notice the unrepaired
condition of the iron railings on either side of the old stone stoop and
to compare this abode of decayed grandeur with the spacious and elegant
apartment in which pretty Mrs. Holmes mourned the loss of her young
husband. Had any such comparison ever been made by the unhappy John
Graham, as he hurried up these decayed steps into the dismal halls
beyond?
In answer to my summons there came to the door a young woman to whom I
had but to intimate my wish to see Mr. Graham for her to let me in with
the short announcement:
“Top floor, back room! Door open, he’s out; door shut, he’s in.”
As an open door meant liberty to enter, I lost no time in following the
direction of her pointing finger, and presently found myself in a low
attic chamber overlooking an acre of roofs. A fire had been lighted in
the open grate, and the flickering red beams danced on ceiling and walls
with a cheeriness greatly in contrast to the nature of the business
which had led me there. As they also served to light the room I
proceeded to make myself at home; and drawing up a chair, sat down at
the fireplace in such a way as to conceal myself from any one entering
the door.
In less than half an hour he came in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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