The curtains were all drawn round it except the half curtain at the bottom, on the side of the bed furthest from the window.

Arthur saw the feet of the sleeping man raising the scanty clothes into a sharp little eminence, as if he was lying flat on his back.

He took the candle, and advanced softly to draw the curtain--stopped half way, and listened for a moment--then turned to the landlord.
"He is a very quiet sleeper," said Arthur.

"Yes," said the landlord, "very quiet." Young Holliday advanced with the candle, and looked in at the man cautiously.
"How pale he is," said Arthur.
"Yes," returned the landlord, "pale enough, isn't he ?" Arthur looked closer at the man.

The bedclothes were drawn up to his chin, and they lay perfectly still over the region of his chest.
Surprised and vaguely startled as he noticed this, Arthur stooped down closer over the stranger, looked at his ashy, parted lips, listened breathlessly for an instant, looked again at the strangely still face, and the motionless lips and chest, and turned round suddenly on the landlord with his own cheeks as pale for the moment as the hollow cheeks of the man on the bed.
"Come here," he whispered, under his breath.