They burned in tall and short holders, in black crusty candelabra and china dishes, and their yellow smoky flames flickered in the draft from the open door. In the middle of the room was a low brass table, and the warped chessboard had been placed on it. The bug-eyed walrus ivory chessmen had been arranged on the chessboard—some in rows and some in a little circle. A blood-streaked human skull stared grimly down from the mantelpiece, and its empty eyes seemed to wink in the candlelight. Standing near the table was Mr. Stallybrass in a black velvet robe. A medallion shaped like a flaring sun hung from a golden chain around his neck. His face was even more flushed than usual, and rivulets of sweat were running down his cheeks. But he seemed triumphant and calm. In one hand he held a long wooden pointer with a silver star on the end. In the other he clutched a small book with a black leather cover. "My oh my, it's a welcoming committee!" he said mockingly. "I'd invite you in, but I'm not feeling very hospitable at present.
