Of the snuff-boxes he thought no more.
The man was rattled. His one idea was to pick up his traps and be
gone. He was even afraid any more to employ his torch. Besides, the
moonlight, to which Betty had drawn his attention, was asserting itself
fantastically.
Step by step he descended the staircase, trying frantically to remember
which of the treads would creak under his weight. Faithfully to
ascertain which of them possessed this important peculiarity had been
one of the last things he did before quitting Mr. Bumble's service.
Was it the fifth or sixth? He hesitated, then avoided the fifth
gingerly, and hoped for the best.... Beneath the increased pressure
the sixth stair fairly shrieked. Mr. Morgan skipped on to the seventh
and broke into a cold sweat. Again he was confronted with the choice
of the eighth or ninth. After a moment of agonized indecision, he
decided to miss them both.... Man but proposes. In his anxiety he
missed the tenth also and slithered incontinently into the hall....
More than a minute passed before the knave dared to pick himself up.
The last five stairs had been rough with his hinder parts, but his
physical pain was nothing to the paroxysm of mental torment which the
noise of his fall had induced.
Trembling with apprehension, he groped his way to his bags. Of these,
one had to be strapped, for the catch of its lock was broken. He knelt
down with his back to the door, fumbling....
A sudden step upon the gravel immediately outside the front door almost
congealed his blood. That peril could blow from that quarter he had
never imagined. Once again he remained where he was, as still as
death. Unless the new-comer was there because his suspicions were
aroused, there was a chance that Mr. Morgan might yet escape notice.
Who the new-comer might be, he had no time to speculate, for, without
being unlocked, the door was pushed open. Mr. Morgan marked the
phenomenon, and his hair rose. Then a man stepped inside and stood
still....
Mr. Morgan held his breath until his lungs were bursting and his head
swam, but the man never moved.
The fact was that Anthony was staring at the same shaft of light which
had attracted Betty's attention. This, however, was no longer
appearing upon the landing, but in the hall, which, with the exception
of that corner which contained the crouching ex-footman, it was doing
much to illuminate. From this it would appear that the arresting beam,
so
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