Читать книгу Under the Tiger's Claws; Or, A Struggle for the Right онлайн

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To see more, one must go higher.

The tiger lurks on the floors above.

To one only of the upper rooms is attention here invited—the room already mentioned.

It was large and richly furnished. A heavy Wilton carpet covered the floor. Massive walnut chairs stood a little away from the beautifully frescoed walls, and the ceiling, done in exquisite colors, and so as to produce the effect of height, revealed a lavish expenditure of money. It might have been a room in a king’s palace.

Rare paintings adorned the walls. A large sideboard, rich with silver and cut glass, stood at the back of the room. Costly ornaments occupied shelves and niches here and there.

The door leading to the main hall of the house was closed and heavily barred. It had in one panel a “peek,” so called, with a moving slide, through which an attendant could look into the hall. This was another precaution taken by vice.

At the front of the room was a long, baize-covered table, on which was a faro layout, the various suits painted in natural colors on enameled cloth. It was the tiger, courted while feared. It should have been called the snake, for it fascinated before it killed, rendering powerless the victims it lured to destruction.