Her mother had been talking in her sleep; and she, Anne had alarmed herself for nothing.

Nevertheless, as she turned from the bed she looked nervously over her shoulder.

The other's wandering or dream, or what it was, had left a vague disquiet in her mind, and presently she took the lamp and, opening the door, passed out, and, with her hands still on the latch, listened.
Suddenly her heart bounded, her startled eyes leapt upward to the ceiling.

Close to her, above her, she heard a sound.
It came from a trap-door that led to the tiles; a trap that even as her eyes reached it, lifted itself with a rending sound.

Save for the bedridden woman, Anne was alone in the house; and for one instant it was a question whether she held her ground or fled shrieking into the room she had left.