ows on the fast
diminishing crowd below in the square, I went to bed, feeling quite
cheerful, and looking forward to a long night's rest after a journey
which had been hot and tiring.

As so often happens, one was probably over-tired, and sleep was not to
be wooed by any of the usual methods. In vain I counted sheep getting
over a hedge, added a hundred up backward and forward, tried deep
breathing, and other little "parlour games." It was absolutely useless.
Twelve o'clock struck, then the half hour, and I gathered from the
stillness below that the good Moscow citizens had retired to their
respective homes. This seemed an added insult! Then one o'clock struck,
and after that I lay for a seeming eternity, before two strokes from the
clock outside indicated the half hour. Scarcely had the reverberation
ceased when I heard cautious sounds in the corridor, which gave me a
good fright, and made me regret the silence I had found so irksome. The
outer door of my room was quietly being opened, creaking on its hinges
in the most ordinary and commonplace way, but evidently opening under a
very wary hand. "Then I could not have locked it after all!" And yet I
felt so convinced that I had done so! Certainly I had _intended_ to do
so on my first night in a strange hotel! The best I could hope was that
some other new arrival had mistaken his room, and was returning late,
and consequently trying to be as quiet as possible. This flashed through
my mind, and brought a moment's comfort. I expected to see a man's head
round the open door at the foot of my bed, and to hear a hurried apology
and still more hurried retreat. I say a _man's_ head, for the footsteps,
though so quiet and cautious, were without doubt a man's footsteps. But
several moments passed in horrible suspense. The outer door had creaked
on its hinges and opened without a shadow of doubt. _Where was the man?_

The door had not closed again, so far as I could hear. From my bed I
could not command a view of the smaller portion of the room, where,
presumably, he must be hidden. There was nothing but the wash-hand stand
and the wardrobe there. What could he be doing or _waiting for_? My
comforting supposition of a mistake in the number of his room, made by
an innocent guest, could not be stretched wide enough to account for the
long pause. Perhaps it was some robber lurking about the passages! He
had tried my door gently, and found it open. I had heard the door creak
on its h