General Theophilus Ruff noticed his hesitancy. "Do not be afraid. I have the combinations all in the inside of my watch scales, so that even if I were suddenly to die here, you would still be able to make your way out." The two stepped within, Cleg being ashamed to show any further feelings of reluctance to trust his benefactor. The General touched a match to a large lamp which stood on a pedestal. The whole room, which had been pitchy dark a moment before, seemed now fairly bursting with light. "My bedroom!" said the General, circling the place with his hand, with the air of one who makes an important introduction. The walls were of red-painted iron throughout, the red of farm carts in the district, and the bolts were again picked out with white. But the furniture was the strange thing. There was nothing whatever in the room save three coffins, each arranged squarely upon its own table. The lids of the two at either side were hinged and closed. The centre one stood open. The coffins were not large or fine ones, but, on the contrary, common and covered with black cloth. The lid of the centre one was off, and stood leaning against the wall at the coffin head. Cleg could easily read the inscription, which was in white letters upon a black painted plate:— MAJOR-GENERAL THEOPHILUS RUFF, E.I.C. BENGAL ARMY. BORN JULY 21st, 18—. DECEIVED JULY 21st, 18—. UNDECEIVED JULY 21st, 18—. DIED JULY 21st, 18—. "It is not long now," he said, pointing to the latter date. "I have not added the year, you observe. But it was revealed that all my days of fate should culminate on the 21st of July. And so hitherto they have. I do not think I shall see more than other four." Then a new thought seemed to strike him. He turned to Cleg Kelly sharply. "Note the lettering on the coffins," he said; "I did it all with an ordinary sharpened knitting needle. I bought a plain black tin plate from the carpenter of the village, and he showed me how the paint scrapes off. It is quite easy. But I have done it much more neatly than could the carpenter himself. I have since attended quite a number of male funerals in order to observe the quality of the lettering upon the coffin. I do assure you it is, in general, disgracefully slipshod. The man does not appear to take the least pains to improve. I have even thought of offering to do the job for him." Cleg was continuing to look about him, when a sudden noise behind him caused him to leap to the side. The great red iron door had swung to with a little well-oiled click. The General smiled indulgently and reassuringly. "It is only the water balance I told you of. It is now full; the little wet-bob rises to the top, and the door swings to of its own accord." Cleg continued to look about him. The room was about thirty feet square and half as high. But there was no bedstead or any other furniture to be seen. The General noticed his perplexity.