"queequeg," said i softly through the key-hole:—all silent. "i say, queequeg! why don’t you speak? it’s i—ishmael." but all remained still as before. i began to grow alarmed. i had allowed him such abundant time; i thought he might have had an apoplectic fit. i looked through the key-hole; but the door opening into an odd corner of the room, the key-hole prospect was but a crooked and sinister one. i could only see part of the foot-board of the bed and a line of the wall, but nothing more. i was surprised to behold resting against the wall the wooden shaft of queequeg’s harpoon, which the landlady the evening previous had taken from him, before our mounting to the chamber. that’s strange, thought i; but at any rate, since the harpoon stands yonder, and he seldom or never goes abroad without it, therefore he must be inside here, and no possible mistake.