In the basement there was a
large and roomy chamber, where the winter logs were stored.
Thither it was that I was led, and I was given to understand that
this was to be my lodging for the night. One side of this bleak
apartment was heaped up to the ceiling with fagots of firewood.
The rest of the room was stone- flagged and bare-walled, with a
single, deep-set window upon one side, which was safely guarded
with iron bars. For light I had a large stable lantern, which
swung from a beam of the low ceiling. Major Sergine smiled as he
took this down, and swung it round so as to throw its light into
every corner of that dreary chamber.
"How do you like our Russian hotels, monsieur?" he asked, with
his hateful sneer. "They are not very grand, but they are the
best that we can give you. Perhaps the next time that you
Frenchmen take a fancy to travel you will choose some other
country where they will make you more comfortable." He stood
laughing at me, his white teeth gleaming through his beard. Then
he left me, and I heard the great key creak in the lock.
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