The darkness deepened until it became absolute.
Time ceased as far as the watcher was concerned.
This sepulchral house seemed even deserted by mice, the movement of one behind the wainscoting would have come as a relief.
Now and then, for a moment, the watcher in the chair, to obtain relief from the absolute negation of sound, pressed his hands over his ears; it was as though he were attempting to shut out the silence.
How long he had been waiting like this it would have been hard to say, probably an hour, possibly less, when he heard the front gate gently opened and as gently shut. Freyberger wore shoes; he had loosened the laces of them, and now he kicked them off.
With incredible swiftness, considering the fact that he was moving in black darkness, he was out of the room and in the passage.
At the end of the passage a pale, dim oblong of light indicated the position of the door leading on to the verandah. Freyberger came down the passage towards the door, and then, himself plunged in utter darkness, he stood, like fate, waiting. He could see the squares of glass forming the verandah wall and, dimly, the garden beyond.
Presently, moving with sinister gentleness and silence, the vague silhouette of a man came gliding along the verandah side till it reached the outside door.
The man was, as far as Freyberger could see, muffled up in a great coat; he wore a slouch hat and he was about the middle height.
When he reached the door, he paused and drew from his pocket something, the form of which the detective could not distinguish.