Who have you got with you ?" "Enright and Lacy--why ?" "I want you all to come in here a minute; don't make so much noise." A voice or two grumbled, but feet shuffled along the bare floor, and the door creaked again as it was carefully closed behind them.

Stella opened her own door a crack and listened; the hall, lighted only by a single oil-lamp at the head of the stairs, was deserted and silent.
She stole cautiously forward, but the voices in Miss La Rue's room were muffled and indistinct, not an audible word reaching her ears.

The key was in the lock, shutting out all view of the interior.

Well, what was the difference?
She knew what was occurring within--the stolen telegram was being displayed, and discussed.

That would not delay them long, and it would never do for her to be discovered in the hall.
Convinced of the uselessness of remaining, she returned to her own room, closing and bolting the door.
This time she removed some of her clothing, and lay down on the bed, conscious of being exceedingly tired, yet in no degree sleepy.