Explore "Jacob's Ladder" by E. Phillips Oppenheim on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Jacob watched the departure of his host, through a slit in the wall, with fascinated eyes. First of all he saw him paddle across the channel to the other side, secure the boat and pause to light a cigarette. Afterwards, on his way back to the Castle, he entered the walled gardens, plucked a peach from the wall and ate it. Finally he disappeared down one of the yew-bordered walks. The house still seemed wrapped in slumber. Jacob took stock of his surroundings. The walls which, to judge from the slits, were about three feet thick, were of rude granite. There was no fireplace, no chair, no furniture of any sort. The floor was of cold stone. The place in itself was enough to strike a chill into one's heart. One huge aperture looked out upon the open sea, sloping down towards it. The other, much narrower, commanded a view of the house. There was nothing else to discover. He counted his cigarettes and found sixteen, with an ample supply of matches.
He lit one, and, taking off his coat for a seat, sat upon the floor and leaned back against the wall.