[The Mystery of Cloomber by Arthur Conan Doyle]@TWC D-Link bookThe Mystery of Cloomber CHAPTER VIII 5/11
This room was aye lockit when he wasna in it, and naebody was ever allowed tae gang into it.
He would mak' his ain bed, and red it up and dust it a' by himsel', but he wouldna so much as allow one o' us to set fut on the passage that led tae it. At nicht he would walk a' ower the hoose, and he had lamps hung in every room and corner, so that no pairt should be dark. Many's the time frae my room in the garret I've heard his futsteps comin' and gangin', comin' and gangin' doon one passage and up anither frae midnight till cockcraw.
It was weary wark to lie listenin' tae his clatter and wonderin' whether he was clean daft, or whether maybe he'd lairnt pagan and idolatrous tricks oot in India, and that his conscience noo was like the worm which gnaweth and dieth not.
I'd ha' speered frae him whether it wouldna ease him to speak wi' the holy Donald McSnaw, but it might ha' been a mistake, and the general wasna a man that you'd care tae mak' a mistake wi'. Ane day I was workin' at the grass border when he comes up and he says, says he: "Did ye ever have occasion tae fire a pistol, Israel ?" "Godsakes!" says I, "I never had siccan a thing in my honds in my life." "Then you'd best not begin noo," says he.
"Every man tae his ain weepon," he says.
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