answered idly; and my answer seemed to
reassure him, for with a "Ah, yes--the wind," he went on.

Now, for all that I am far from being a man of tremors or unwarranted
fears, to tell the truth the hostelry of the "Star" was beginning to
fret my nerves. I could scarce have told you why had you asked me, as I
sat upon the bed after mine host had left me, and turned my thoughts to
it. It was none of the trivial incidents that had marked my coming; but
it was, I think, the combination of them all. First there was the host's
desire to separate me from my men by suggesting that they should sleep
in the hayloft. Clearly unnecessary, when he was not averse to turning
his common room into a dormitory. There was his very evident relief
when, after announcing that I would have them sleep one in my room and
one in the passage by my door, I consented to their spending the night
below; there was the presence of those two very ill-looking cut-throats;
there was the attempt to carry off my sword; and, lastly, there was that
creaking door and the host's note of alarm.

What was that?

I stood up suddenly. Had my fancy, dwelling upon that very incident,
tricked me into believing that a door had creaked again? I listened, but
a silence followed, broken only by a drone of voices ascending from the
common room. As I had assured the host upon the stairs, so I now assured
myself that it was the wind, the signboard of the inn, perhaps, swaying
in the storm.

And then, when I had almost dismissed my doubts, and was about to divest
myself of my remaining clothes, I saw something at which I thanked
Heaven that I had not allowed the landlord to carry off my rapier. My
eyes were on the door, and, as I gazed, I beheld the slow raising of the
latch. It was no delusion; my wits were keen and my eyes sharp; there
was no fear to make me see things that were not. Softly I stepped to
the bed-rail where I had hung my sword by the baldrick, and as softly I
unsheathed it. The door was pushed open, and I caught the advance of a
stealthy step. A naked foot shot past the edge of the door into my room,
and for a second I thought of pinning it to the ground with my rapier;
then came a leg, then a half-dressed body surmounted by a face--the face
of Rodenard!

At sight of it, amazement and a hundred suspicions crossed my mind. How,
in God's name, came he here, and for what purpose did he steal so into
my chamber?

But my suspicions perished even as they were