stood quickly aside, hoping that at the last minute my chance had come.
Two men, who had apparently attended this first person downstairs, stood
respectfully behind him, holding lights. He paused a moment on the steps
to adjust his cloak, and with more than a little surprise I recognised
my acquaintance of the morning, M. de Bruhl.

I had scarcely time to identify him before he walked down the steps
swinging his cane, brushed carelessly past me, and was gone. The two
men looked after him awhile, shading their lights from the wind, and one
saying something, the other laughed coarsely. The next moment they threw
the door to and went, as I saw by the passage of their light, into the
room on the left of the hall.

Now was my time. I could have hoped for, prayed for, expected no better
fortune than this. The door had rebounded slightly from the jamb, and
stood open an inch or more. In a second I pushed it from me gently, slid
into the hall, and closed it behind me.

The door of the room on the left was wide open, and the light which
shone through the doorway--otherwise the hall was dark--as well as the
voices of the two men I had seen, warned me to be careful. I stood,
scarcely daring to breathe, and looked about me. There was no matting
on the floor, no fire on the hearth. The hall felt cold, damp, and
uninhabited. The state staircase rose in front of me, and presently
bifurcating, formed a gallery round the place. I looked up, and up, and
far above me, in the dim heights of the second floor, I espied a faint
light--perhaps, the reflection of a light.

A movement in the room on my left warned me that I had no time to lose,
if I meant to act. At any minute one of the men might come out and
discover me. With the utmost care I started on my journey. I stole
across the stone floor of the hall easily and quietly enough, but I
found the real difficulty begin when I came to the stairs. They were of
wood, and creaked and groaned under me to such an extent that, with each
step I trod, I expected the men to take the alarm. Fortunately all went
well until I passed the first corner--I chose, of course, the left-hand
flight--then a board jumped under my foot with a crack which sounded in
the empty hall, and to my excited ears, as loud as a pistol-shot. I was
in two minds whether I should not on the instant make a rush for it, but
happily I stood still. One of the men came out and listened, and I heard
the other ask, with an oath, wha