“But YOU, George?”
“If I couldn't manage that fellow without turning down the bedclothes I'd kick myself. Hush. Steady now.”
He lay down and shut his eyes as if in natural repose. Only his right hand, carelessly placed under his pillow, closed on the handle of his pistol. Falkner quietly slipped into the passage. The light of the candle faintly illuminated the floor and opposite wall, but left it on either side in pitchy obscurity.
For some moments the silence was broken only by the sound of the rain without. The recumbent figure in bed seemed to have actually succumbed to sleep. The multitudinous small noises of a house in repose might have been misinterpreted by ears less keen than the sleeper's; but when the apparent creaking of a far-off shutter was followed by the sliding apparition of a dark head of tangled hair at the door, Lee had not been deceived, and was as prepared as if he had seen it. Another step, and the figure entered the room. The door closed instantly behind it. The sound of a heavy body struggling against the partition outside followed, and then suddenly ceased.
The intruder turned, and violently grasped the handle of the door, but recoiled at a quiet voice from the bed.
“Drop that, and come here.”
He started back with an exclamation. The sleeper's eyes were wide open; the sleeper's extended arm and pistol covered him.
“Silence! or I'll let that candle shine through you!”
“Yes, captain!” growled the astounded and frightened half-breed. “I didn't know you were here.”
Lee raised himself, and grasped the long whip in his left hand and whirled it round his head.