The furniture, originally rich and elegant, was now worn threadbare and lustreless.

A book-case, containing, among other volumes, a few law books--there being a vague tradition, as Paul remembered, that Colonel Pendleton had once been connected with the law--a few French chairs of tarnished gilt, a rifle in the corner, a presentation sword in a mahogany case, a few classical prints on the walls, and one or two iron deed-boxes marked "El Dorado Bank," were the principal objects.

A mild flavor of dry decay and methylated spirits pervaded the apartment.

Yet it was scrupulously clean and well kept, and a few clothes neatly brushed and folded on a chair bore witness to the servant's care.

As Paul, however, glanced behind the sofa, he was concerned to see a coat, which had evidently been thrust hurriedly in a corner, with the sleeve lining inside out, and a needle and thread still sticking in the seam.