Stuart realized, upon thought, that probably the pair thought he was armed, and were waiting to try some strategy. Whatever their plan might be, he felt that now he would be safe until morning. But there was no surety.
Back on the bed, Stuart continued to listen. He heard an occasional noise, seemingly at some distance from the room. It sounded like a creaking somewhere in the house, but it was repeated too often to be such an ordinary sound.
Stuart rubbed his forehead. It was growing very stuffy in this unventilated room. The house had seemed musty and chilly when he entered; now it was stuffy and warm. Breathing was a difficult task. Stuart seemed to have caught a cold during the eventful evening. But now his nostrils scented something. Smoke!
He listened in alarm. Now he knew what the noise was — the crackling of fire! A terrible thought swept over Stuart.
The old man had set the house on fire — and he was here to be burned alive!
There was no time for lingering, now. Furiously, Stuart battered at the iron shutter, but to no avail. He seized a chair and beat against the door.
He demolished the chair with a few strokes, and he seized the other one. The result was the same. Then Stuart smashed away with the broken pieces, until they were splintered to bits.
The barrier still remained unopened.
Wearied, Stuart rested on the side of the bed. It would take a miracle to save him now.
The old man's scheme was dastardly.