But
for all that McTeague got up and lit his miner's candlestick and went
carefully about the room, throwing the light into the dark corners,
peering under all the beds, including his own. Then he went to the door
and stepped outside. The night was warm and still; the moon, very low,
and canted on her side like a galleon foundering. The camp was very
quiet; nobody was in sight. "I wonder what it was," muttered the
dentist. "There was something--why did I wake up? Huh?" He made a
circuit about the bunk house, unusually alert, his small eyes twinkling
rapidly, seeing everything. All was quiet. An old dog who invariably
slept on the steps of the bunk house had not even wakened. McTeague went
back to bed, but did not sleep.
"There was SOMETHING," he muttered, looking in a puzzled way at his
canary in the cage that hung from the wall at his bedside; "something.
What was it? There is something NOW. There it is again--the same thing."
He sat up in bed with eyes and ears strained. "What is it? I don'
know what it is. I don' hear anything, an' I don' see anything. I feel
something--right now; feel it now. I wonder--I don' know--I don' know."
Once more he got up, and this time dressed himself.
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