Towards three o’clock I fell into fear-haunted dreams, but was presently awakened by a quick knocking at my door and, opening, I came face to face with my companion, who stood there fully dressed.
“For God’s sake let me come in.” He looked about the room nervously. “Have you anything to drink?”
I produced a flask of Scotch whiskey and he filled half a glass and gulped it down. Then he drew a massive iron key from his pocket and threw it on the bed.
“Whatever happens, keep that. Don’t let me have it.”
I picked up the key and looked at it curiously. It was about four inches long and very heavy.
“Why don’t you want me to let you have it?”
“Because it unlocks a door that would lead me to—hell,” he cried fiercely. Then he reached for the flask.
“No, no! You’ve had enough,” I said, and drew the bottle out of his reach. “Randolph, you know I’m your friend, don’t you? Look at me! Now what’s the matter? What door are you talking about?”
“The door to a wing of the prison where Edison is.”
“You said he was in Aaron Burr’s cell.”