Up to this time his mind had been too much occupied to think of the light.

He had left the wick of the candle unsnuffed till it had risen higher than the flame, and had burned into an odd pent-house shape at the top, from which morsels of the charred cotton fell off from time to time in little flakes.

He took up the snuffers now and trimmed the wick.

The light brightened directly, and the room became less dismal.
Again he turned to the riddles, reading them doggedly and resolutely, now in one corner of the card, now in another.

All his efforts, however, could not fix his attention on them.