Hallam had not moved, but was sleeping heavily in his old position.
Crellock listened again, but all was perfectly still. It could not have been fancy. Certainly he had heard a door bang softly, and the sound seemed to come from this direction.
He stood thinking, and then went round and tried the front door.
“Fast.”
He walked round to the back door, following the verandah all the way, and found that door also fast.
“I couldn’t have been mistaken,” he said, as he listened again.
Once more the wind was sighing loudly about the place, but the noise was not repeated, and he walked on to the dining-room window; but as he laid his hand upon the glass door and thrust it open, a current of air rushed in, and there was the same sound: a door blew to with a slight bang.
Crellock closed and fastened the glass door as he stepped out and ran quickly round to the drawing-room, where it was as he suspected: the glass door similar to that he had just left was open, and blew to and fro.
“There’s something wrong,” he said excitedly, his suspicions being aroused; and, dashing in, he upset a chair in crossing the room, and it fell with a crash, but he hurried on into the hall, through to the study, and caught Hallam by the arm.
“Wake up!” he said excitedly. “Hallam! Wake up, man.”