Explore "Micah Clarke" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The strong yellow glare which had attracted us across the moor found its / way out through a single narrow slit alongside the door which served the / purpose of a rude window. As we advanced towards it the light changed / suddenly to red, and that again to green, throwing a ghastly pallor over / our faces, and especially heightening the cadaverous effect of Saxon's / austere features. At the same time we became aware of a most subtle / and noxious odour which poisoned the air all round the cottage. / This combination of portents in so lonely a spot worked upon the old / man-at-arms' superstitious feelings to such an extent that he paused / and looked back at us inquiringly. Both Reuben and I were determined, / however, to carry the adventure through, so he contented himself with / falling a little behind us, and pattering to himself some exorcism / appropriate to the occasion. Walking up to the door, I rapped upon it / with the hilt of my sword and announced that we were weary travellers / who were seeking a night's shelter.
The first result of my appeal was a sound as of some one bustling / rapidly about, with the clinking of metal and noise of the turning of / locks. This died away into a hush, and I was about to knock once more / when a crackling voice greeted us from the other side of the door.