Page:The Iron Pirate 1905.djvu/242

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CHAPTER XVIII.


THE DEN OF DEATH.


The bed in which I lay was wondrous soft and downy; and the cold gave me deep sleep, so that I awoke at a late hour to find the sun streaming through my rock window, and the negro telling me, as he was wont to do in the ship, that my bath was ready. The bath-room lay away a few paces from my chamber; but the water that flowed from the silver taps was icily cold; and I shivered after my plunge, though the beauty and luxury of the place compelled my admiration. It was no ordinary bath-room, even in its arrangement, the great well of water being large enough to swim in, and the basin of pure white marble; while soft and brightly-coloured rugs were laid on the couches around, and the arched roof was Eastern in design and decoration. When we returned to my sleeping-place, I found the bed curtained off, leaving a commodious apartment, with books, armchairs, a writing-table, and a fire-place, in which a coal fire burned brightly. But the greater surprise was the view from my window, a view over a sunlit fjord, away to mountain peaks, snow-capped and shining; and between them to a