But the thing from the night made no closer approach. It was like a game of strategy. Duncan felt that if he made the slightest motion, death would follow. Only by feigning sleep could he escape.
* * *
What was to be the next move? Duncan could only wait. Wait and watch.
The creature had moved onto the hearth of the fireplace. A bony hand appeared in the light. The claws crawled up the right side of the fireplace until they reached the top. The hand pressed upward on the metal border.
There was a sharp click. The creature turned quickly toward the bed, but Duncan's eyes closed instantly.
Again he lay motionless for fully fifteen seconds. Then he reopened his eyes and stared in fascination.
The gruesome creature was stooping now — stooping beside an opening in the hearth against the side of the fireplace. Its bony hands dipped into the cavity in the floor. They emerged carrying a small package and two envelopes.
The apish visitor again pressed the side of the fireplace, and Duncan saw the stone in the hearth close, completely concealing the hole. As his eyes remained on the spot, he suddenly realized that the creature was gone.
He glanced toward the window. A blotch appeared and immediately vanished downward. From outside came that same hissing whistle. The ivy vines rustled. Then all was silent; the quiet of the night returned.
Only half awake, Duncan climbed out of bed, and switched on the light.