to the waterside, where the coxswains of the transport's boats were
by this time blowing impatient calls on their whistles. But the
upper end of the street was well-nigh deserted. A dingy oil lantern
overhung the pavement a few yards from the ope, and above the ope the
barber's parrot hung silent, with a shawl flung over its cage.
I dived into the dark passage, and, stumbling my way to Captain
Danny's door, found that it gave easily to my hand.

For a moment I paused on the threshold, striving to remember where he
kept his tinder-box and matches. But the room was small. I knew the
geography of it, and could easily--I told myself--grope my way to the
corner, find the cupboard, and, feeling for the keyhole, insert the
key. I was about to essay this when the thought occurred to me that,
as Captain Danny had left the door on the latch, so very likely with
equal foresight he had placed his tinder-box handy--on the table, it
might be. I put out my hand in the direction where, as I
recollected, the table stood. It reached into empty darkness. I
took another step and groped for the table with both hands.
Still darkness, nothing but darkness! I took yet another step and
struck my foot against a hard object on the floor; and, as I bent to
examine this, something sharp and exceeding painful thrust itself
into my groin--a table-leg, upturned.

Recovering myself, I passed a hand over it. Yes, undoubtedly it was
a table-leg and the table lay topsy-turvy. But how came it so?
Who had upset it, and why? I took another step, sideways, and my
boot struck against something light, and, by its sound, hollow and
metallic. Stooping very cautiously--for by this time I had taken
alarm and was holding my breath--I passed a hand lightly over the
floor. My fingers encountered the object I had kicked aside.