Meantime, we can look over the papers." "It is too dark here," said French.

"We can't see to read.
You have in your cabin a light, let us go there." "Oh," cried Rosenblatt hastily, "it is more comfortable here.
I have a lantern." He rummaged in the sides of the cave and produced a lantern.
"Here is a light," said French, striking a match.
Rosenblatt snatched the match from his hand, crushed it in his fingers and hurried out of the cave.
"Ah," he exclaimed, "I am shaking with my hurried ride." With great care he lighted his lantern outside of the cave and set it upon a table that had been placed near the cave's mouth.

French drew out his pipe, slowly filled it and proceeded to light it, when Rosenblatt in a horror-stricken voice arrested him.
"Don't smoke!" he cried.

"I mean--it makes me very ill--when I am--in this--condition--the smell of tobacco smoke." French looked at him with cool contempt.
"I am sorry for you," he said, lighting his pipe and throwing the match down.
Rosenblatt sprang to the cave mouth, came back again, furtively treading upon the match.

The perspiration was standing out upon his forehead.
"It is a terrible night," he said.