“Come along, Leo. What are you sniffing at?” Sweeting asked.
There was a long agonized silence, then Ken heard soft footfalls just outside the door. Then there was silence again, and Ken had a horrible feeling that Sweeting was listening outside, his ear against the door panel.
The dog had stopped snuffling. Ken could hear now only the thud of his heart and the sound of rain against the window.
Then he heard a sound that sent a chill up his spine. The door handle creaked and began to turn. He remembered he had unlocked the door. Even as the door began to move inwards, he rammed his foot against the bottom of it and jammed it shut. He put his hand on the door and leaned his weight against it while he rumbled desperately to find the catch on the lock.
There was only slight pressure on the door, and after a moment it went away.
“Come along, Leo,” Sweeting said, slightly raising his voice. “We must go down. You will be waking Miss Carson.”
Ken leaned against the door, feeling sweat run down his face. He listened to the soft creaking of the stairs as Sweeting descended, then, just as his nerves were relaxing, the telephone bell just above his head began to ring.
II
The thunder had died away now, and apart from the shrill, nagging sound of the telephone bell the house seemed wrapped in silence.
Everyone in the house must hear the bell, Ken thought frantically. Who could it be calling at this hour?