s house?

CHAPTER IV

A long time I stood waiting for some reply to my message. My candle was
fast burning out, and I began to fear that after all I was likely to
leave the house no wiser than when I had entered it. Suddenly a door
swung on its creaking hinges and a feeble old man, holding a lamp in one
hand, stood grinning at me in the opening. It was the same face that I
saw before, but it seemed less ghostly and unnatural now. Stepping back
he beckoned me to enter. As soon as I had crossed the threshold the door
closed behind me and the old man carefully bolted it. I stood in a
large room, richly furnished, of which spiders had apparently long held
possession. Great cobwebs hung like hammocks from the ceiling, and
the dust of years had settled over all. Two human skeletons completely
wrapped in cobwebs, stood facing me against the opposite wall. Following
my silent leader, I went through a long narrow passage, at the end of
which was a heavy door fastened with large iron bolts. Before opening
it the strange old man placed the lamp upon a table and turning around
looked squarely into my face. Merciful Heaven! It was the face of
another man who was looking at me now! The deep lines had almost
disappeared and the eyes looked brighter and more intelligent. No,
it was the same face, for while my eyes were eagerly scanning it that
hideous grin began to deepen its wrinkles, and its owner, taking half a
dozen steps down the passageway, made an awkward motion with both hands
as if trying to indicate that I was to follow him very closely. Then he
opened the big door and I was surprised to observe that it led into the
outer air. What gulf of darkness are we about to plunge into? I asked
myself, peering through the doorway; and as we stepped out I heard again
that ominous whirring. Close upon his heels I followed in a narrow path,
through what seemed to be a large courtyard, overgrown with thick grass.
Presently he stopped, and, taking a bunch of keys from his pocket,
unlocked a door in a back wing of the house. Reaching out until his hand
touched me, as if to make sure that I was there, he swung the door
open and we stepped into a dimly lighted apartment. My mysterious guide
turned up the wick of a lamp that was burning on a table in the centre
of the room. It was a library, with great shelves of books reaching
from floor to ceiling along its walls. A large galvanic battery, globes,
charts and other contrivances that bel