somewhat determined disposition, and he found himself vaguely
irritated by the liberties which had been taken with his property.
He hammered gently upon the framework with his fist, and the
windows opened readily inwards, pushing back the curtain with them.
He drew himself up on to the sill, and, squeezing himself through
the opening, landed on his feet and looked around him, a little
breathless.

He found himself in a simply furnished man's sitting-room. An easel
was standing close to the window. There were reams of drawing paper
and several unfinished sketches leaning against the wall. There
was a small oak table in the middle of the room; against the wall
stood an exquisite chiffonier, on which were resting some cut-glass
decanters and goblets. There was a Turkey carpet upon the floor
which matched the curtains, but to his surprise there was not a
single chair of any sort to be seen. The walls had been distempered
and were hung with one or two engravings which, although he was no
judge, he was quite sure were good. He wandered into the back room,
where he found a stove, a tea-service upon a deal table, and several
other cooking utensils, all spotlessly clean and of the most
expensive description. The walls here were plainly whitewashed,
and the floor was of hard stone. He then tried the door on the
left, which led into the larger portion of the building--the shed
in which the lifeboat had once been kept. Not only was the door
locked, but he saw at once that the lock was modern, and the door
itself was secured with heavy iron clamps. He returned to the
sitting-room.

"The girl with the grey eyes was right enough," he remarked to
himself. "Mr. Fentolin has been making himself very much at home