Rather surprised, for it was almost one o'clock, I went around the side of the garage and stopped by the water's edge. Peering out across the lake, I tried to discover the boat from which the sound had come. But the darkness was too dense, and I could see but a few feet from the shore. Then, as I listened, once again there came the click of the oar against the oarlock. Far out on the lake some one was rowing a boat.
It seemed rather a curious thing that any one should be out on the lake at this time of the night. Just where they were I could not tell, for the darkness could not be pierced, and the boat was carrying no light. But as I caught the sound of the oars, I judged they must be directly opposite me. And then as I listened, the sound died away, and though I waited for some minutes longer, I did not hear it again.
When I entered the living room, Bartley commented on the length of time it had taken me to put up the car. I told him of the boat I had heard, but he made no reply. Perhaps he might have said something if Ranville had not come into the room bearing three glasses for what he called a bedtime drink. With the sober air men have when they go through the sacred rite of a drink, we swallowed our Scotch and decided that it was time to go to bed.
Ranville locked the front door, put down the windows, and we went up the wide stairs to our sleeping rooms. Bartley and I had adjoining bedrooms, and while I was undressing I wandered back and forth between the two. Then as Bartley put out his light, I went back into my room and at length climbed into bed.
I should have been sleepy, but as the moments went by sleep became the last thing I desired. I tossed back and forth on the bed becoming more wide awake every moment. In sheer disgust I tried various things which are said to bring sleep. I counted to several hundred then closed my eyes and tried to see the sheep jumping the fence. But as I saw no sheep, the effort was not a success. At last in sheer disgust I rolled over on my back and lay staring in the darkness.
It was very still. From a distance came the weird hoot of an owl. Once a car went past in the road before the house. Then far away I heard a clock in the village strike two. But sleep would not come. Then as there fell an utter silence, I reached the point where every nerve was straining, hoping for a sound. Very suddenly the sound came—causing me to sit upright in my bed.
It was not a sound which came floating in from the open windows. Instead, it came from the house—from below my room; a sound which lasted but a few seconds, then died away, and silence fell again. But when I heard it, I knew no noise of that kind should have disturbed me, for from below I had heard the crash of a chair—a chair falling to the floor.
Sitting tense and upright in the bed, I listened for a moment. There came no other noise—only the soft rustling of the trees outside my window. Slipping out of bed, I went softly across the floor and into Bartley's room. By the side of his bed I paused. I could hear his low breathing as I gently shook his arm to waken him. In a moment he stirred, and when I knew he was awake, I told him what I had heard. The next second he was out of bed.
The room was very dark, and I could not see him. But I heard him go to his table and open a drawer. Then he came back to my side and whispered:
“We will get Ranville. As we have to go out in the hall, make no sound.”