It was indeed no longer the profile, but the back, which was turned
towards us.

Three years had certainly not smoothed the asperities of his temper or
his impatience with a less active intelligence than his own.

"Of course it has moved," said he. "Am I such a farcical bungler,
Watson, that I should erect an obvious dummy, and expect that some of
the sharpest men in Europe would be deceived by it? We have been in
this room two hours, and Mrs. Hudson has made some change in that figure
eight times, or once in every quarter of an hour. She works it from the
front, so that her shadow may never be seen. Ah!" He drew in his breath
with a shrill, excited intake. In the dim light I saw his head thrown
forward, his whole attitude rigid with attention. Outside the street
was absolutely deserted. Those two men might still be crouching in the
doorway, but I could no longer see them. All was still and dark, save
only that brilliant yellow screen in front of us with the black figure
outlined upon its centre. Again in the utter silence I heard that thin,
sibilant note which spoke of intense suppressed excitement. An instant
later he pulled me back into the blackest corner of the room, and I
felt his warning hand upon my lips. The fingers which clutched me were
quivering. Never had I known my friend more moved, and yet the dark
street still stretched lonely and motionless before us.

But suddenly I was aware of that which his keener senses had already
distinguished. A low, stealthy sound came to my ears, not from the
direction of Baker Street, but from the back of the very house in which
we lay concealed. A door opened and shut. An instant later steps
crept down the passage--steps which were meant to be silent, but which