Between the rust and the soreness of his index finger it was a most difficult operation to open it.
Before the sun went down he succeeded, and made a wick by unraveling a few strands of wool from his jersey.

When night fell, with the suddenness of the tropics, Iris was able to illuminate her small domain.
They were both utterly tired and ready to drop with fatigue.

The girl said "Good night," but instantly reappeared from behind the tarpaulin.
"Am I to keep the lamp alight ?" she inquired.
"Please yourself, Miss Deane.

Better not, perhaps.

It will only burn four or five hours, any way." Soon the light vanished, and he lay down, his pipe between his teeth, close to the cave's entrance.