He had been so evidently unlike himself, that Schmidt had feared he would become a raving maniac in the night, and had entered the house at his heels, seating himself upon the stairs just outside the door to wait for events, with the odd fidelity and forethought characteristic of him.

The Count's cry had warned him that all was not right and he had entered the room, as has been seen.
He determined to wait some time longer, to see whether anything would happen.

Meanwhile, he thrust Akulina's letter into his pocket, reflecting that as it was a forgery it would be best that the Count should not have it, lest he should be again misled by the contents.

He sat down and waited.
Nothing happened.

The clocks chimed the quarters up to one in the morning, a quarter-past, half-past--Schmidt was growing sleepy.