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The House of a Thousand Candles

Chapter 3 THE HOUSE OF A THOUSAND CANDLES

Word Count: 2175    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

platform. Light streamed from the open door of the station; a few idlers paced the platform, staring into the windows of the cars; the village hackman languidly solicited my business. Suddenly

w, and I hear his deep melancholy voice,

? I am Bates from Glenarm House. Mr.

be sure

thering up my traps, and I

, a little regretfully, I must confess, o

no way over but the hack in winter. In sum

ed the suggestion without comment. We walked to the end of the platform, where the hackman was already tumbling my trunks about, and after we had seen them piled upon his nondescript wagon, I

his hand at the stacks. "It's a conside

, as we passed a radiant saloon

men,"-on which remark I based a mental note that

course to a basis of necessity. I was to be shut up with him for a year, and he was not likely to prove a cheerful jai

road leads right out to th

ape in these parts, and I was rejoiced to know that it was not all cheerless prai

to take great pleasure in it. Bass,-yes, sir. Mr. Glen

a loyal retainer. No doubt he could summon from the past many pictu

he penalty he had laid upon me in a sane and amiable spirit. This train of thought occupied me as we tramped along the highway. The road now led away from the lake and

his, Bates

's a quarter of a mile long and cost him a pretty penny, I warrant you. The

later, my guide paused at an arched gateway in the long wall, drew from his overcoat a bunch of

Bates found a lantern and lig

ular entrance is farther down the road. Keep

ntern of my guide with difficulty. In the darkness the

s the light, sir,"-and, lifting my eyes, as I stumbled over the roots of

t door of the house, where a lamp shone brightly at either side of a massive entrance. Bates flung it open without

narm," said Bates, with a tone of mild apolog

The sound of our steps reverberated and echoed in the well of a great staircase.

tter, sir,"-and Bates paused far

e room. I was prepared for a disclosure of barren ugliness, and waited,

" said Bates, "while I

dark a faint twilight, that yielded slowly to a growing mellow splendor of light. I have often watched the acolytes in dim cathedrals of the Old World set countless candles ablaze on magnificent altars,-always with

books; they covered the walls to the ceiling, with only long French windows and an enormous fireplace breaking the line. Above the fireplace a massive dark oak chimney-breast further emphasized the grand scale of the room. From every conceivable place-from shelves built for the purpose

e of a Thousand Candles.' There's only about a hundred here; but it was one of his conceits that when the house was finished there would be a

I replied, stari

copper were specialties with him, and he had a particular taste, Mr. Glenarm had, in glass candlesticks. He he

as wide. The hard-wood floor was covered with handsome rugs; every piece of furniture was quaint or interes

Man is the Can

ngs, all in careful order; and in another I found an elaborate card catalogue, evidently the work of a practised hand. The minute examination was too much for me; I threw myself into a great chair that might have been spoil from a cathedral, satisfied to enjoy the general effect. To find an apartment so handsome and so marked by good taste in the midst of

ite ready fo

to a small high-wainscoted roo

eals here. The library was the main thing with him. He never lived to finish the house, -more's the pity, sir. He would have made

be sure,"

d, and produced a bit of Stilto

r liking. It's your grandfather's

society. I had often eaten my bread alone, and I found a pleasure in the quiet of the strange unknown house. There stole over me, too, the satisfaction that I was at last obeying a wish of my grandfather's, that I was doing something he would have me do. I was touched by the traces everywhere of his interest in what was to him the art of arts; there was something quite fine in his devotion to it. The little refectory had it

was holding it half-opened, when the glass in the window back of me cracked sharply, a bullet whistl

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