He placed several of the lamps on a tray, carefully lowered the wicks, and carried them to their allotted places, returning for others until only half a dozen small lamps remained.

These he gathered on the tray and took upstairs.
Night had fallen; the wind was rising without, and seemed to rustle and whistle in the draughty passages of the old house.

Thalassa placed one lamp at the head of the stairs, and others in the niches of the passage, where they flickered feebly and diffused a feeble light.

Halfway down the passage he paused before a closed door.

It was the room in which Sisily's mother had died.