How Barnabas Met Jasper Gaunt, And What Came Of IT

Barnabas followed the Captain along a somewhat gloomy hall, up a
narrow and winding staircase, and here, halfway up, was a small
landing with an alcove where stood a tall, wizen-faced clock with
skeleton hands and a loud, insistent, very deliberate tick; so, up
more stairs to another hall, also somewhat gloomy, and a door which
the pale-eyed, smiling person obligingly opened, and, having ushered
them into a handsomely furnished chamber, disappeared. The Captain
crossed to the hearth, and standing before the empty grate, put up
his hand and loosened his high stock with suddenly petulant fingers,
rather as though he found some difficulty in breathing; and, looking
at him, Barnabas saw that the debonair Slingsby had vanished quite;
in his place was another--a much older man, haggard of eye, with a
face peaked, and gray, and careworn beneath the brim of the jaunty
hat.

"My dear Beverley," said he, staring down into the empty grate,
"if you 're ever in need--if you're ever reduced to--destitution,
then, in heaven's name, go quietly away and--starve! Deuced
unpleasant, of course, but it's--sooner over, b'gad!"

At this moment the smiling person reappeared at a different door,
and uttered the words: "Captain Slingsby,--if you please." Hereupon the Captain visibly
braced himself, squared his shoulders, took off his hat, crossed the
room in a couple of strides, and Barnabas was alone.

Now as he sat there waiting, he gradually became aware of a sound
that stole upon the quiet, a soft, low sound, exactly what he could
not define, nevertheless it greatly perturbed him. Therefore he rose,
and approaching that part of the room whence it proceeded, he saw
another door. And then, all at once, as he stood before this door,
he knew what the sound was, and why it had so distressed him; and,
even as the knowledge came, he opened the door and stepped into the
room beyond.