knew that the blackness of the cellar had probably half blinded her.
Besides, he had drawn as far as possible to one side of the steps, and
in this way she might easily have overlooked him.

In the meantime it seemed that this way of entering the house was
definitely blocked. He paused a moment to consider other plans, but,
while he stayed there in thought, he heard the rattle of pans. It
decided him to stay a while longer. Apparently she was washing the
cooking utensils, and that meant that she was near the close of her
work for the evening. In fact, the rim of light, which showed between
the door frame and the door, suddenly snapped out, and he heard her
footsteps retreating.

Still he delayed a moment or two, for fear she might return to take
something which she had forgotten. But the silence deepened above him,
and voices were faintly audible toward the front of the house.

That decided Ronicky. He opened the door, blessing the well-oiled
hinges which kept it from making any noise, and let a shaft from his
pocket lantern flicker across the kitchen floor. The light glimmered
on the newly scrubbed surface and showed him a door to his right,
opening into the main part of the house.

He passed through it at once and sighed with relief when his foot
touched the carpet on the hall beyond. He noted, too, that there was
no sign of a creak from the boards beneath his tread. However old
that house might be, he was a noble carpenter who laid the flooring,
Ronicky thought, as he slipped through the semi-gloom. For there was
a small hall light toward the front, and it gave him an uncertain
illumination, even at the rear of the passage.