Then Jean struck a match.
Half a dozen steps away was a table and on the table a lamp.

Croisset lighted it, and with a quiet laugh faced the engineer.

They were in a low, dungeon-like chamber, without a window and with but the one door through which they had entered.

The table, two chairs, a stove and a bunk built against one of the log walls were all that Howland could see.
But it was not the barrenness of what he imagined was to be his new prison that held his eyes in staring inquiry on Croisset.

It was the look in his companion's face, the yellow pallor of fear--a horror--that had taken possession of it.