He had with him also a six-chambered revolver, which he had not come too honestly by. He had, in fact, stolen it when in Sheffield.
He had always a passion for fire-arms, as also for musical instruments, and had never been very particular how he obtained either.
He glanced at “Gip,” who was lying on a rug placed for his accommodation near the door of his room.
The animal looked wistfully at his master.
“Well,” murmured our hero; “no one will be able to enter the apartment without my hearing it, for Gip will be sure to give an alarm. At the same time it would be as well perhaps to take this precaution.”
He walked towards the door and slid the bolt into its socket.
Then he sat once more on the side of his bed.
“It may be after all but a hoax of some mischievously-disposed fool!” he exclaimed. “In all probability such is the case. Any way, I shall not put myself about, or take further trouble in the matter.”
He remained for an hour or so after this, watching and waiting, but could not detect the faintest sound.
All was silent within the house, and all was silent without.