It was the dead of the night, and this was a fearful old place to be wandering about; but she was possessed with an urgent feeling which would not let her wait until daylight.
She stole like a ghost from her chamber.

She glided along the narrow entries as she had seemed to move in her dream.

She opened the folding doors of the great upright desk.

She had always before examined it by daylight, and though she had so often pulled all the little drawers out, she had never thoroughly explored the recesses which received them.
But in her new-born passion of search, she held her light so as to illuminate all these deeper spaces.

At once she thought she saw the marks of pressure with a finger.