Another rap was the only reply, and Tom was almost decided not to heed the summons longer, but to leave the callers, whoever they might be, out there in the storm.
"I'll go upstairs and look out of the window," whispered Peter's mother; and, creeping softly out of the room, she soon made her way up the stairway to the room overhead from which she had replied to Tom's own summons a few minutes before.
Tom waited and listened. The rapping was not repeated, and no sound could be heard outside the door. What could it all mean? Had the marauders gone around to some of the windows? These were barred by heavy inside shutters, and no light could be seen to reveal the presence of any one. The darkness in the room was intense, and Tom almost thought he could feel it. He was breathing hard in his excitement, but he had not left his position by the door.
Soon he heard the sound of the woman returning down the stairway. He waited breathlessly, and she soon rejoined him.
"I can't see but one man," she whispered. "He's right there in front of the door."
"Is it Benzeor?"
"I couldn't see. You'd better open the door and let him in. We can handle one."
Tom did not feel so positive about that, but bidding her light the candle, he again drew back the bar. "Come in! Come in! Quick!" he called.
Some one pushed past him, and the door was instantly closed and barred again.
The candle was not yet lighted, and in the darkness he felt as if some one were about to grasp him. He could almost feel hands upon him now. He stepped farther back from the door, and waited in breathless suspense for the candle to be lighted.