Jeffrey's wedding fixings did not interest me, and everything
else about the room looking natural except the overturned chair,
which struck me as immaterial. I hurried downstairs again, leaving
the candle burning behind me in case I should wish to return aloft
after I had refreshed my mind with what had been written about this
old room.
"Not a sound disturbed the house as I seated myself to my reading
in front of the library shelves. I was as much alone under that
desolate roof as mortal could be with men anywhere within reach of
him. I enjoyed the solitude and was making a very pretty theory
for myself on a scrap of paper I tore from another old book when
a noise suddenly rose in front, which, slight as it was, was quite
unmistakable to ears trained in listening. Some one was unlocking
the front door.
"Naturally I thought it to be Mr. Jeffrey returning for a second
visit to his wife's house, and knowing what I might expect if he
surprised me on the premises, I restored the book hastily to its
place and as hastily blew out the candle. Then, with every
intention of flight, I backed toward the door by which I had
entered. But some impulse stronger than that of escape made me
stop just before I reached it. I could see nothing; the place was
dark as Tophet; but I could listen.
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