.
I have a lantern."

He rummaged in the sides of the cave and produced a lantern.

"Here is a light," said French, striking a match.

Rosenblatt snatched the match from his hand, crushed it in his
fingers and hurried out of the cave.

"Ah," he exclaimed, "I am shaking with my hurried ride."

With great care he lighted his lantern outside of the cave and set
it upon a table that had been placed near the cave's mouth. French
drew out his pipe, slowly filled it and proceeded to light it,
when Rosenblatt in a horror-stricken voice arrested him.

"Don't smoke!" he cried. "I mean--it makes me very ill--when
I am--in this--condition--the smell of tobacco smoke."

French looked at him with cool contempt.

"I am sorry for you," he said, lighting his pipe and throwing
the match down.

Rosenblatt sprang to the cave mouth, came back again, furtively
treading upon the match. The perspiration was standing out upon
his forehead.

"It is a terrible night," he said. "Let us proceed. We can't wait
for my partner. Read, read."

With fingers that trembled so that he could hardly hold the papers,
he thrust the documents into Kalman's hand.

"Read," he cried, "I cannot see."

Opening the papers, Kalman proceeded to read them carefully,
by the light of the lantern, French smoking calmly the while.

"Have you no better light than this, Rosenblatt?" said French at
length. "Surely there are candles about here." He walked toward
the back of the cave.

"Ah, my God!" cried Rosenblatt, seizing him and drawing him toward
the table again. "Sit down, sit down. If you want candles, let
me get them. I know where they are. But we need no candles here.
Yes," he cried with a laugh, "young eyes are better than old eyes.
The young man reads well. Read, read."

"There is another paper," said French after Kalman had finished.
"There is a further agreement."

"Yes, truly," said Rosenblatt. "Is it not there? It must be there.
No, I must have left it at my cabin. I will bring it."

"Well, hurry then," said French. "Meantime, my pipe is out."

He drew a match, struck it on the sole of his boot, lighted his
pipe and threw the blazing remnant toward the back of the cave.

"Ah, my God!" cried Rosenblatt, his voice rising almost to a
shriek. Both men looked curiously at him. "Ah," he said, with his
hand over his heart, "I have pain here. But I will get the paper."

His face was livid, and the sweat was running down his beard. As he
spoke h