Then the first one, the lighter of the
two, obviously the.pursued one, ran with uncertain footsteps into the
little room which Shorthouse and his aunt had just left. The heavier
one followed. There was a sound of scuffling, gasping, and smothered
screaming; and then out on to the landing came the step— of a single
person treading weightily.
A dead silence followed for the space of half a minute, and then
was heard a rushing sound through the air. It was followed by a dull,
crashing thud in the depths of the house below—on the stone floor of
the hall.
Utter silence reigned after. Nothing moved. The flame of the candle
was steady. It had been steady the whole time, and the air had been
undisturbed by any movement whatsoever. Palsied with terror, Aunt
Julia, without waiting for her companion, began fumbling her way
downstairs; she was crying gently to herself, and when Shorthouse put
his arm round her and half carried her, he felt that she was trembling
like a leaf. He went into the little room and picked up the cloak from
the floor, and, arm in arm, walking very slowly, without speaking a
word or looking once behind them, they marched down the three flights
into the hall.
In the hall they saw nothing, but the whole way down the stairs
they were conscious that someone followed them; step by step; when
they went faster IT was left behind, and when they went more slowly IT
caught them up. But never once did they look behind to see; and at each
turning of the staircase they lowered their eyes for fear of the
following horror they might see upon the stairs above.
With trembling hands Shorthouse opened the front door, and they
walked out into the moonlight and drew a deep breath of the cool night
air blowing in from the sea.
.
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