My room was the nearest to the staircase end of the corridor, and any one coming up the stairs must pass my door.
With a presence of mind which, I am glad to say, rarely deserts me, I blew out my candle, slipped to the door, and noiselessly opened it a chink.
Some one was coming down the corridor with the lightness of a cat, candle in hand, as a faint light showed me.

Another moment, and I saw Charles, pale and haggard, still in evening-dress, coming towards me.

He was without his shoes.

He passed my door and went noiselessly into his own room, a little farther down the passage.

There was the faintest suspicion of a sound, as of a key being gently turned in the lock, and then all was still again, stiller than ever.
What could Charles have been after?
I wondered.