"I see."

"Manuel knows the house, and will come first. When he's fairly in the
room shut the door and go for the other. But no noise. This is just one
of the SW-EETEST things out--if it's done properly."

"But YOU, George?"

"If I couldn't manage that fellow without turning down the bedclothes
I'd kick myself. Hush. Steady now."

He lay down and shut his eyes as if in natural repose. Only his right
hand, carelessly placed under his pillow, closed on the handle of his
pistol. Falkner quietly slipped into the passage. The light of the
candle faintly illuminated the floor and opposite wall, but left it on
either side in pitchy obscurity.

For some moments the silence was broken only by the sound of the rain
without. The recumbent figure in bed seemed to have actually succumbed
to sleep. The multitudinous small noises of a house in repose might have
been misinterpreted by ears less keen than the sleeper's; but when
the apparent creaking of a far-off shutter was followed by the sliding
apparition of a dark head of tangled hair at the door, Lee had not been
deceived, and was as prepared as if he had seen it. Another step, and
the figure entered the room. The door closed instantly behind it. The
sound of a heavy body struggling against the partition outside followed,
and then suddenly ceased.

The intruder turned, and violently grasped the handle of the door, but
recoiled at a quiet voice from the bed.