His one glimpse of her vanishing figure assured him of this
fact, and he drew back instantly, unwilling to follow. Where she had gone
he neither knew, nor cared. She had come to his room secretly, supposing
him asleep, and this surprising knowledge dominated his mind. What could
such an act mean? This was certainly a home of respectability, of wealth.
The guests being entertained were evidence of that; yet this secret
entrance into his private apartment at such an hour suggested theft, or
even some more desperate crime. There was mystery here, at least, a
mystery beyond his power of discernment. However, this recognition rather
hardened him to his task, than otherwise. He had been forced into the
strange environment, and now meant to penetrate its every secret.
This time he locked the outer door carefully, and lay down on the bed,
wondering if there would be any further developments. As he attempted to
think, he was listening eagerly for the slightest sound of movement in
the hall. There were none; the transom stood partially open, but no noise
reached his ears from the outside; clearly enough the night prowler,
assured that he was still awake, had decided to make no further effort.
Doubtless she believed her escape had been unseen, or, at least, that she
had remained unrecognized in the gloom, and would now resort to some
entirely different method for achieving her end, whatever it could be. He
could only wait, and watch for the next move.
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