Tales of Terror and Mystery
The Leather Funnel
Atthesameinstantseveralrough-lookingfellowsinstoutjerkinscamebustlinginandremovedfirsttheredcarpet,andthentheboardswhichformedthedais,soastoentirelycleartheroom.WhenthisscreenwasremovedIsawsomesingulararticlesoffurniturebehindit.Onelookedlikeabedwithwoodenrollersateachend,andawinchhandletoregulateitslength.Anotherwasawoodenhorse.Therewereseveralothercuriousobjects,andanumberofswingingcordswhichplayedoverpulleys.Itwasnotunlikeamoderngymnasium.
Whentheroomhadbeenclearedthereappearedanewfigureuponthescene.Thiswasatall,thinpersoncladinblack,withagauntandaustereface.Theaspectofthemanmademeshudder.Hisclotheswereallshiningwithgreaseandmottledwithstains.Heborehimselfwithaslowandimpressivedignity,asifhetookcommandofallthingsfromtheinstantofhisentrance.Inspiteofhisrudeappearanceandsordiddress,itwasnowhisbusiness,hisroom,histocommand.Hecarriedacoiloflightropesoverhisleftforearm.Theladylookedhimupanddownwithasearchingglance,butherexpressionwasunchanged.Itwasconfident—evendefiant.Butitwasverydifferentwiththepriest.Hisfacewasghastlywhite,andIsawthemoistureglistenandrunonhishigh,slopingforehead.Hethrewuphishandsinprayerandhestoopedcontinuallytomutterfranticwordsinthelady’sear.
Themaninblacknowadvanced,andtakingoneofthecordsfromhisleftarm,heboundthewoman’shandstogether.Sheheldthemmeeklytowardhimashedidso.
