"But I'm going in and
so are you. Only, let me suggest that we first take off our shoes.
We can hide them in these bushes."
"I always catch cold when I walk barefooted," mumbled my brave
companion; but receiving no reply he drew off his shoes and dropped
them beside mine in the cluster of stark bushes which figure so
prominently in the illustrations that I have just mentioned. Then
he took out his revolver, and cocking it, stood waiting, while I
gave a cautious push to the door.
Darkness! silence!
Rather had I confronted a light and heard some noise, even if it
had been the ominous click to which eve are so well accustomed.
Hibbard seemed to share my feelings, though from an entirely
different cause.
"Pistols and lanterns are no good here," he grumbled. "What we want
at this blessed minute is a priest with a sprinkling of holy water;
and I for one -"
He was actually sliding off.
With a smothered oath I drew him back.
"See here!" I cried, "you're not a babe in arms. Come on or - Well,
what now?"
He had clenched my arm and was pointing to the door which was slowly
swaying to behind us.
"Notice that," he whispered. "No key in the lock! Men use keys but -"
My patience could stand no more. With a shake I rid myself of his
clutch, muttering:
"There, go! You're too much of a fool for me.
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