There, sure enough, not on the walk without, but down at the end of the corridor we had just traversed, was a footstep.

Tim drew me down to a corner near the hearth, where, hidden behind a stack of arms, we could remain partly hid.

The step approached, but whoever came was walking, as we had done, in the dark.

To my thinking it was a light step, and one familiar with the path it trod.

For a moment it ceased, and I guessed it was at the bracket from which we had taken the candle.