He waited in suspense, not knowing whether the unseen walker
was on the other side of the room or was close upon him. Presently he
stood up and stretched out his left arm in front of him, groping,
searching, feeling in a circle; and behind it he held the pistol, cocked
and pointed, in his right hand. As he rose a bone cracked in his knee,
his clothes rustled as if they were newspapers, and his breath seemed
loud enough to be heard all over the room. But not a sound came to
betray the position of the invisible intruder.
Then, just when the tension was becoming unbearable, a noise relieved
the gripping silence. It was wood knocking against wood, and it came
from the farther end of the room. The steps had moved over to the
fireplace. A sliding sound almost immediately followed it and then
silence closed again over everything like a pall.
For another five minutes Shorthouse waited, and then the suspense became
too much. He could not stand that open door! The candles were close
beside him and he struck a match and lit them, expecting in the sudden
glare to receive at least a terrific blow.
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