The hall was very wide, and the stairs came up in a wide sweep from the first floor. Our rooms were about half-way down the hallway, with Ranville's at the extreme end. Bartley opened the door so silently that I did not hear a sound; then with our hands on the wall we crept slowly down the hall. We found Ranville's door slightly ajar, and after we slipped into the room Bartley gently closed it.
Ranville was sleeping very soundly, and Bartley had to shake him many times before he roused him. He woke slowly, saying something in a very sleepy voice. Then as he became wide awake, his tone became crisp as he wanted to know what was the matter. In a few words Bartley told him how I had heard a chair fall over in the living room. And then through the darkness came the eager whisper of the Englishman.
“Where did you put that box of opium?”
I heard a low chuckle from Bartley as he whispered back that it was well hidden in his own room. Then as Ranville slid out of bed, he asked what we should do. Bartley's answer was quick and low:
“Of course, there must have been some one down stairs when the chair crashed. That is, unless Pelt was dreaming. Now you know professional thieves leave the door open for a fast getaway. I am going to slide out of your window, Ranville, along the roof of the veranda. You and Pelt can go downstairs, first giving me a moment's start. I want to be by the front door. When you get to the living room, try and turn on the lights. Take your gun and your flashlight.”
Ranville went to his bureau, fumbled a moment in the dark, and came back to our side. He said in a low voice that he had his gun and the light. Then Bartley went over by the window. We could not see him very clearly, only as a darker shadow against the blackness. But we heard him as he took the screen out, and there came a soft scraping sound as he went out on the roof. As this died away, Ranville whispered:
“Come on, Pelt,” and started for the door.
Out in the hall we paused a moment to listen, but no sound came to our ears. With my hand against the wall I crept softly down its length until we came to the rail of the stairs which led to the first floor. Again we paused, but heard nothing. Then very carefully, one step at a time, we went down the stairs, pausing at each step to listen. We reached the bottom of the stairs without hearing anything.
The hall was very wide. On the right was the great living room, which ran the entire length of the house. On the left was a dining room and a small library. The living room was directly under the room in which I slept, and the sound of the falling chair had come from there. There was a wide double door, and I knew that the doors were open. But when, after going very carefully down the hall, we reached the doorway, we discovered as we put out our hands that it was closed.
This rather startled me for a second though I knew they could not be locked; there was no kind of a lock on the door. Whoever had entered the room had closed the doors, no doubt to prevent any sound being heard. I felt Ranville's hand as it went searching over the surface of the door and as it slid over my fingers. Then slowly I felt the door open as he pushed against it—open until we were able to slip into the room.