He was about giving up the search in despair, after sweeping with his
two hands every spot of the wall-surface around him, when chancing to
turn his whole body a little to one side, he heard a creak, and saw a
thin lance of light. His foot had unconsciously pressed some spring laid
in the floor. The jamb was ajar. Pushing it open, he stood at liberty,
in the Squire's closet.




CHAPTER XIII.

HIS ESCAPE FROM THE HOUSE, WITH VARIOUS ADVENTURES FOLLOWING.


He started at the funereal aspect of the room, into which, since he last
stood there, undertakers seemed to have stolen. The curtains of the
window were festooned with long weepers of crape. The four corners of
the red cloth on the round table were knotted with crape.

Knowing nothing of these mournful customs of the country, nevertheless,
Israel's instinct whispered him that Squire Woodcock lived no more on
this earth. At once the whole three days' mystery was made clear. But
what was now to be done? His friend must have died very suddenly; most
probably struck down in a fit, from which he never more rose. With him
had perished all knowledge of the fact that a stranger was immured in
the mansion. If discovered then, prowling here in the inmost privacies
of a gentleman's abode, what would befall the wanderer, already not
unsuspected in the neighborhood of some underhand guilt as a fugitive?
If he adhered to the strict truth, what could he offer in his own