His emaciated hands were crossed on his breast, and held a small black crucifix.

The candles stood, one at the head and one at the foot, on little tables.
I entered the room and looked long at the dead old man.

I thought it strange that there should be no one to watch him, but I am not afraid of dead men after the first shudder is past.

It was a ghastly sight enough, however, and the candles shed a glaring yellowish light over it all.
"Poor wretch!" I said to myself, and went back to my room, closing the door carefully behind me.
At first I thought of rousing the host, and explaining to him my objections to being left almost in the same room with a corpse.

But I reflected that it would be foolish to seem afraid of it, when I was really not at all timid, and so I went to bed and slept until dawn.
But when I went downstairs I found the innkeeper, and gave him a piece of my mind.
"What sort of an inn do you keep?
What manners are these ?" I cried angrily.