The night was very dark, and there was not even a hint of starshine to light the room. A dog was barking on the Home Farm just outside the park enclosure, but not another sound broke the silence. I rolled over, and shut my eyes, and promptly sat up in bed. I thought I had heard another sound. What it was I could not say. It was very faint, a gentle burring rip.
I swung out of bed, reached for a candle, thought better of it, and crossed to the door communicating with Hugh's room. It was ajar, and as I poked my head in, I could hear his gentle breathing. Nikka's room, beyond his, was quiet. Outside of us three, only Watkins slept in that part of the house. The servants' quarters were in the rear over the kitchens.
My first instinct was to laugh at myself, but I opened the door from my room into the hall and listened there. At first, I heard nothing. Then it seemed to me that I detected a creaking, as of subdued footfalls. I strained my faculties in tense concentration, but the creaking was not repeated, and I began to believe that my imagination was playing tricks with me.
To make sure, I crossed the hall in my bare feet, and listened at Watkins's door. Watkins, I regret to say, snored quite audibly, and I was inclined to suspect that he had been responsible for arousing me. But I could not quell the uneasiness which possessed me. I started to call Hugh and Nikka, and stopped with my hand raised to knock on Nikka's door. It would be a fool stunt to wake them for nothing but my own fancies.
After a moment's further hesitation, I crept downstairs into the entrance hall, groping my way in the pitch darkness. Feeling more than ever like a fool, I looked into the dining room and music room. I had just stepped back into the hall when a chink of light shone out of the short passage that led from the hall into the Gunroom. It flickered away, and returned.
Wishing now that I had taken the automatic that lay on the table beside my bed, I stole into the Gunroom passage. I still thought I might have to deal with one of the servants. In fact, I didn't think very much of anything, except the necessity of discovering the identity of the intruder.
The door of the Gunroom opened into the passage. It was ajar, but not sufficiently to permit me to see inside. I drew it cautiously toward me. The chink of light was more pronounced. A brief mutter of voices, hoarse and restrained, reached my ears. As the crack widened, I adjusted my eye to the opening and peered in.