hearing a quick hissing breathing
as of a person in strong excitement. He went on to his own room, and
again he was surprised to find how much smaller it seemed now than it
had when he selected it. It was a slight disappointment, but only
slight. If he found it really not large enough, he could very easily
shift to another. In the meantime he wanted something--as far as I
remember it was a pocket-handkerchief--out of his portmanteau, which
had been placed by the porter on a very inadequate trestle or stool
against the wall at the furthest end of the room from his bed. Here was
a very curious thing: the portmanteau was not to be seen. It had been
moved by officious servants; doubtless the contents had been put in the
wardrobe. No, none of them were there. This was vexatious. The idea of a
theft he dismissed at once. Such things rarely happen in Denmark, but
some piece of stupidity had certainly been performed (which is not so
uncommon), and the _stuepige_ must be severely spoken to. Whatever it
was that he wanted, it was not so necessary to his comfort that he could
not wait till the morning for it, and he therefore settled not to ring
the bell and disturb the servants. He went to the window--the right-hand
window it was--and looked out on the quiet street. There was a tall
building opposite, with large spaces of dead wall; no passers by; a dark
night; and very little to be seen of any kind.

The light was behind him, and he could see his own shadow clearly cast
on the wall opposite. Also the shadow of the bearded man in Number 11 on
the left, who passed to and fro in shirt sleeves once or twice, and was
seen first brushing his hair, and later on in a nightgown. Also the
shadow of the occupant of Number 13 on the right. This might be more
interesting. Number 13 was, like himself, leaning on his elbows on the
window-sill looking out into the street. He seemed to be a tall thin
man--or was it by any chance a woman?--at least, it was someone who
covered his or her head with some kind of drapery before going to bed,
and, he thought, must be possessed of a red lamp-shade--and the lamp
must be flickering very much. There was a distinct playing up and down
of a dull red light on the opposite wall. He craned out a little to see
if he could make any more of the figure, but beyond a fold of some
light, perhaps white, material on the window-sill he could see nothing.

Now came a distant step in the street, and its approach seemed t