"How the devil am I to sleep," he said,
"with THIS on my mind?"
He looked at the light, burning on the table at the head of his bed.
After a moment, he took the candle in his hand.
I blew out the second candle, burning behind the closed curtains. I drew
back, with Mr. Bruff and Betteredge, into the farthest corner by the
bed. I signed to them to be silent, as if their lives had depended on
it.
We waited--seeing and hearing nothing. We waited, hidden from him by the
curtains.
The light which he was holding on the other side of us moved suddenly.
The next moment he passed us, swift and noiseless, with the candle in
his hand.
He opened the bedroom door, and went out.
We followed him along the corridor. We followed him down the stairs. We
followed him along the second corridor. He never looked back; he never
hesitated.
He opened the sitting-room door, and went in, leaving it open behind
him.
The door was hung (like all the other doors in the house) on large
old-fashioned hinges. When it was opened, a crevice was opened between
the door and the post. I signed to my two companions to look
through this, so as to keep them from showing themselves.
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