Perhaps, after all, he thought as by an inspiration, the lieutenant had altered his plans, and was sending men to look after and protect him.
"Let's see," said Archy to himself.

"I must go out of this door, and keep turning a little to the right till I feel the door at the top of the stairs." Suppose any one should hear him, take him for a thief, and fire at him?
Suppose that door at the end of the passage had been locked by the smugglers?
It seemed so probable, that a nervous feeling attacked the lad.

He would be a prisoner, and discovered by the inmates in the morning.
He would soon put that to the proof, he told himself; and he was about to step cautiously back toward the door when another thought sent a shudder through him.
Suppose as soon as he got into the hall, or whatever place it was, he should hear that sigh again and the rustling sound?
He shrank back as he recalled how it had affected him.
"Oh, what a coward I am!" he said softly; and he took a step forward, where very faintly, as if far distant, he heard the rustling sound again.

It came nearer and nearer, then there was a low sigh, the door was pushed open, for the rustling came quite plainly now, accompanied by a faint breathing.
The door closed with a soft dull sound as Archy stood as if turned into stone, his hair again feeling as if moved by hands, and he would have spoken, but no words would come.
At last, as he stood there in front of the window, terrified too much to stir, he suddenly heard a faint sound as of catching breath, and a voice said in a hurried, frightened whisper,-- "Who's there?
Is that you, Ram ?" Archy tried to speak but could not.

Before he could draw a breath of relief, feeling as he did that this was nothing of which he need feel such fear, the voice said again,-- "You are trying to frighten me.