and was
turning mentally into a fourth, when he found himself starting again
quite violently. This time it was not at a touch but at a sound.
Surely it was a sound. And it was in the cellar with him. But it was
the tiniest possible noise, a ghost of a squeak and a suggestion of a
movement. It came from the opposite side of the cellar, the side where
the shelves were. He looked across in the darkness saw a light which
there could be no mistake about. It WAS a light, two lights indeed,
two round phosphorescent greenish balls. They were two eyes staring at
him. And then he heard another sound. Not a squeak this time, but
something so homely and comfortable that he actually burst out
laughing. It was a cat purring, a nice warm cat! And she was curled
up on one of the lower shelves purring to some new-born kittens. He
knew there were kittens because it was plain now what the tiny squeak
had been, and it was made plainer by the fact that he heard another
much more distinct one and then another. They had all been asleep when
he had come into the cellar. If the mother had been awake, she had
probably been very much afraid. Afterward she had perhaps come down
from her shelf to investigate, and had passed close to him. The
feeling of relief which came upon him at this queer and simple
discovery was wonderful. It was so natural and comfortable an
every-day thing that it seemed to make spies and criminals unreal, and
only natural things possible. With a mother cat purring away among her
kittens, even a dark wine-cellar was not so black. He got up and
kneeled by the shelf. The greenish eyes did not shine in an unfriendly
way. He could feel that the owner of them was a nice big cat, and he
counted four round little balls of kittens. It was a curious delight
to stroke the soft fur and talk to the mother cat. She answered with
purring, as if she liked the sense of friendly human nearness. Marco
laughed to himself.

"It's queer what a difference it makes!" he said. "It is almost like
finding a window."

The mere presence of these harmless living things was companionship.
He sat down close to the low shelf and listened to the motherly
purring, now and then speaking and putting out his hand to touch the
warm fur. The phosphorescent light in the green eyes was a comfort in
itself.

"We shall get out of this--both of us," he said. "We shall not be here
very long, Puss-cat."

He was not troubled by the fear