"What in Hell do you mean by this?" he cried out, thunderstruck: but the
shopman gave no answer or other sign of existence, and Norman suddenly
realized with dismay that he was alone and a prisoner. For a moment or
two he groped and fumbled in the dark. Then he remembered his matches.
He found three and lit them one by one. They cast all sorts of curious
and flickering shadows from odd-shaped objects like crocodile gods and
water-skins; one by one they went out. Norman was only the wiser in as
far as the little light had lasted long enough for him to find out that
the end of the shop had no exit and that his interloctuor had certainly
disappeared, and he therefore spared himself the trouble of stumbling
about in the dark for a means of escape. "This is fun," he thought
boyishly, and sat down on what he had seen to be a horribly dusty and
cracked Chippendale chair to await proceedings. When ten minutes had
passed he began to scratch his head; after twenty minutes the room had
grown insufferably stifling and the philosophic mood had passed: after
half-an-hour he had formulated a scheme in accordance with which he
would use the hindquarters of a large brass elephant, probably Indian,
which he had noticed faintly glimmering on a shelf, as a battering ram.
His idea was that with so heavy an implement he could break a hole in
the shutters, which seemed to have closed automatically, or at least by
hammering attract the attention of some passers by in the street
outside. He was about to act on this ingenious plan and had already
grasped the elephant firmly by one leg when his ear was attracted by a
noise of heavy breathing from behind the shop, and a fumbling sound
which suggested the turning of keys. The next instant a sort of
panel-door opened at the back of the shop, flooding the place with a
light that made Norman blink, and a butler, who, with his side whiskers,
livery and portly presence looked so like a butler that he positively
made Norman gasp, said in the most servile and insinuating English,
"_Would_ you step this way, sir?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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