He was about to turn the key in the lock when a sound stayed his hand, ay, and rooted him to the spot.

Yet it was only a laugh--but a laugh such as his ears had never caught before, a laugh full of ghastly, shrill, unearthly mirth.

It rang through the passage, through the house, through the night; but whence it proceeded, whether from some being at his elbow, or from above stairs, or below, it was impossible to say; and the blood gone from his face, Claude stood, peering over his shoulder into the dark corners of the passage.

Again that laugh rose, shrill, mocking, unearthly; and this time his hand fell from the lock.
The Syndic, utterly unmanned, leant sweating against the wall.

He called upon the name of his Maker.