As he left the stable he heard the man behind him whistling as he gave the cobbles a final sweeping for the night. The tune seemed familiar, but Harry was not sufficiently interested to give another thought to it. The landlord met him at the door with a lighted candle and led the way to his room. "It is a small room, Excellency," he explained apologetically; "not such a room as befits a gentleman of your rank. But the truth is, the heavy rains of late have found out a weak spot in the roof, and my large guest-chamber is consequently very damp. The small room here to the left is, however, very comfortable; it was last occupied by an Austrian nobleman who slept through the night without turning an eyelid." "Then it will suit me very well," said Harry. "Breakfast at daybreak, you said, Excellency?" "Yes." "You will want nothing more to-night?" "Nothing. Good-night, landlord!" Harry shut the door and shot the bolt. He thought the Austrian nobleman must have been easily satisfied. The room was about twelve feet by seven, and contained nothing but a bed and a chair. There was one small window opening on to the courtyard some thirty feet below, the view of the yard being partially obstructed by a projecting wing of the house immediately beneath. The air of the room being very stuffy, he opened the window wide; then he undressed, blew out the light, and got into bed, pulling out the blanket, which seemed somewhat frowsy, and finding enough warmth in the light coverlet. But he found it impossible to sleep. He was in fact overtired, and bodily fatigue often makes the mind only more active. He fell a-musing, and wondered what it was in the landlord’s manner that he disliked. Through the window came the sound of the stableman’s whistle as he locked the yard gate, and Harry tried in vain to recollect where he had heard the tune before. The ostler was a happy fellow, evidently; perhaps his master was better than he appeared. The whistling ceased, a door banged, presumably the man had gone to bed; "and he’ll sleep as sound as a top," thought Harry. He turned over on to his back and stared at the ceiling, which consisted of thick beams with rough boards between. By and by he noticed a dark square outline in the planking just above him. He could not see it distinctly, for the beams of the rising moon did not fall upon it directly, but across the bed, making the room itself fairly light. For a time he looked idly at the square; it was evidently a trap-door. He began to be curious about it, then was aware of an indefinable, inexplicable sense of uneasiness, of insecurity. He felt that he could neither withdraw his gaze from the trap-door nor put it from his thoughts. He turned on to his right side, away from the window, but in a few moments was on his back again, staring up as before. "This is ridiculous," he said to himself impatiently. "I wonder whether the thing has a bolt."