y
practical vein that ran through his nature, now showing itself in
anxiety for a bed at so late an hour, led Rodriguez to change the
subject. He wanted that aged butler, yet dare not ring the bell; for he
feared lest with all the bells there might be in use that frightful
practice that he had met by the outer door, a chain connected with some
hideous hook that gave anguish to something in the basement whenever
one touched the handle, so that the menials of that grim Professor were
shrilly summoned by screams. And therefore Rodriguez sought counsel of
Morano, who straightway volunteered to find the butler's quarters, by a
certain sense that he had of the fitness of things: and forth he went,
but would not leave the room without the scabbard and the handle of the
frying-pan lashed to it, which he bore high before him in both his
hands as though he were leading some austere procession. And even so he
returned with that aged man the butler, who led them down dim corridors
of stone; but, though he showed the way, Morano would go in front,
still holding up that scabbard and handle before him, while Rodriguez
held the bare sword. And so they came to a room lit by the flare of one
candle, which their guide told them the Professor had prepared for his
guest. In the vastness of it was a great bed. Shadows and a whir as of
wings passed out of the door as they entered. "Bats," said the ancient
guide. But Morano believed he had routed powers of evil with the handle
of his frying-pan and his master's scabbard. Who could say what they
were in such a house, where bats and evil spirits sheltered perennially
from the brooms of the just? Then that ancient man with the lips of
some woodland thing departed, and Rodriguez went to the great bed. On a
pile of straw that had been cast into the room Morano lay down across
the door, setting the scabbard upright in a rat-hole near his head,
while Rodriguez lay down with the bare sword in his hand. There was
only one door in the room, and this Morano guarded. Windows there were,
but they were shuttered with raw oak of enormous thickness. He had
already enquired with his sword behind the velvet curtains. He felt
secure in the bulk of Morano across the only door, at least from
creatures of this world: and Morano feared no longer either spirit or
spell, believing that he had vanquished the Professor with his symbol,
and all such allies as he may have had here or elsewhere. But not thus
easily do we ov