On more collected second thoughts, indeed, it was woefully light.

But the knot defied his efforts.

He took out a second match, and was on the point of striking it.
Instead of doing so, he stood suddenly erect, and then backed noiselessly into the remotest corner of the room.

For a key had been thrust into the lock of the anteroom door, and already the handle was being slowly turned back.
Durkin's breath quickened and shortened, and his hand swung back to his hip pocket.

Then he waited, with his revolver in his hand.
He counted and weighed his chances, quickly, one by one, as he stood there, in the black silence.