For all that, he sat like a statue and waited.

At last the Squire moved again.
"I dreaded a repetition of that, Armstrong.

Had he lived--" Here he stopped again abruptly.
The tutor waited patiently for five minutes and then screwed his eye- glass into his eye.
As he did so, the old man uttered a sound very like a snore.

Mr Armstrong gave an imperceptible shrug of his shoulders and inwardly meditated a retreat, when the sound came through the darkness again.
There was something in it which brought the tutor suddenly to his feet.
He struck a match and hastily lit a candle.
Squire Ingleton sat there just as he had sat an hour ago when the tutor found him, except that the hand on the chair-arm was quiet, and his chin sunk a little deeper in his chest.

The tutor passed the candle before the old man's face, and then, scarcely less pallid than his master, rang the bell.
"Raffles," said he, as the page entered, "come here, quick.