"It seems to come from downstairs."
"Yes, most certainly."
"Is it a rat gnawing?"
"That's no rat."
"Has a bird got into the chimney?"
"No, it sounds quite different. I believe it's outside."
"Shall I strike a match?"
"Better not. I want to listen at the window."
Katrine crept out of bed, and groped her way across the dark room to the open casement. It was a cloudy night, with neither moon nor star in the sky, and the view was one uniform mass of blackness. The silence was almost oppressive; none of the ordinary country noises were to be heard, not a cow lowed nor a solitary owl hooted—all the world lay hushed in quiet sleep. The darkness seemed to hedge them round and cut them off from the rest of the slumbering humanity in the village.
Tony had followed Katrine, and pushed his cold moist nose into her hand. As she bent down to pat him, she could feel his whole body quivering with tense agitation.