Secondly, it was clear from the message which Unorna had left with the porter of her own house that she expected Keyork to come at any moment.

He was then in immediate danger of being brought face to face with Israel Kafka without having received the least warning of his present condition, and it was impossible to say what the infuriated youth might do at such a moment.

He had been shut up, caught in his own trap, as it were, for some time, and his anger and madness might reasonably be supposed to have been aggravated rather than cooled by his unexpected confinement.

It was as likely as not that he would use the weapon he carried upon the first person with whom he found himself face to face, especially if that person made any attempt to overpower and disarm him.
The Wanderer drove to Keyork Arabian's house, and leaving his carriage to wait in case of need, ascended the stairs and knocked at the door.
For some reason or other Keyork would not have a bell in his dwelling, whether because, like Mahomet, he regarded the bell as the devil's instrument, or because he was really nervously sensitive to the sound of one, nobody had ever discovered.

The Wanderer knocked therefore, and Keyork answered the knock in person.
"My dear friend!" he exclaimed in his richest and deepest voice, as he recognised the Wanderer.