Ramiro was snoring now--a loud, sonorous snore that rang like a trumpet-blast through that vast empty hall.
At last Mariani returned, bringing the sheet of paper I had asked for, and he was full of questions of what I intended.

But neither the place nor the time was one in which to stand unfolding plans.

Every moment wasted increased the uncertainty of the success of my design.

Someone might come, or Ramiro might awaken despite the potency of the wine he had been given--for on so well-seasoned a toper the most potent of wines could have but a transient effect.
So I left Mariani, and moved swiftly and silently to the head of the staircase.
I had gone down two steps, when, in the dark, I missed the third, the bells in my cap jangling at the shock.

I brought my teeth together and stood breathless in apprehension, fearing that the noise might awaken him, and cursing myself for a careless fool to have forgotten those infernal bells.