loved not dumb animals might have been killing rats.
Blood did not disturb him; but what amazed him, and
would have surprised anyone who stood in that ruinous
room, was that there were clean new sheets on the
bed. Had you seen the state of the furniture and
the floor, O my reader, and the vastness of the old
cobwebs and the black dust that they held, the dead
spiders and huge dead flies, and the living generation
of spiders descending and ascending through the gloom,
I say that you also would have been surprised at the
sight of those nice clean sheets. Rodriguez noted
the fact and continued his preparations. He took
the bolster from underneath the pillow and laid it
down the middle of the bed and put the sheets back
over it; then he stood back and looked at it, much
as a sculptor might stand back from his marble, then
he returned to it and bent it a little in the middle,
and after that he placed his mandolin on the pillow
and nearly covered it with the sheet, but not quite,
for a little of the curved dark-brown wood remained
still to be seen. It looked wonderfully now like
a sleeper in the bed, but Rodriguez was not satisfied
with his work until he had placed his kerchief and
one of his shoes where a shoulder ought to be; then
he stood back once more and eyed it with satisfaction.
Next he considered the light. He looked at the
light of the moon and remembered his father’s
advice, as the young often do, but considered that
this was not the occasion for it, and decided to leave
the light of his candle instead, so that anyone who
might be familiar with the moonlight in that shadowy
chamber should find instead a less sinister light.
He therefore dragged a table to the bedside, placed
the candle upon it, and opened a treasured book that
he bore in his doublet, and laid it on the bed near
by, between the candle and his mandolin-headed sleeper;
the name of the book was Notes in a Cathedral and dealt
with the confessions of a young girl, which the author
claimed to have jotted down, while concealed behind
a pillow near the Confessional, every Sunday for the
entire period of Lent. Lastly he pulled a sheet
a little loose from the bed, until a corner of it
lay on the floor; then he lay down on the boards, still
keeping his sword in his hand, and by means of the
sheet and some silk that hung from the bed, he concealed
himself sufficient for his purpose, which was to see
before he should be seen by any intruder that might
enter that chamber.
And if Rodriguez appear to have been unduly suspicious, it should be borne in mind not only that those empty rings needed much explanation, but that every house suggests to the stranger something; and that whereas one house seems to promise a welcome in front of cosy fires, another good fare, another joyous wine, this inn seemed to promise murder; or so the young man’s intuition said, and the young are wise to trust to their intuitions.