“‘Well and good. Now you have finished with the second flight of stairs. At the head you find yourself in a short, narrow hall. Three doors open from this hall. The front door opens into the spare bed-room, now unoccupied. The middle door opens into the bath-room. The last door opens into the room you want to get at. Which of these doors are you to pass through?’
“‘The bath-room door.’
“‘Precisely. That is the door which your key fits—not the door that leads straight into his room. Well, now observe. Here is the bath-room. You unlock the door from the hall into the bath-room, and—what next?’
“‘I lock it again, behind me.’
“‘Very well. And then?’
“‘Then I open the door from the bath-room into the room I’m after. That’ll be unlocked.’
“‘Excellent! That will be unlocked. He never locks it. So, finally you are in the room you have been making for. Now, study this room carefully. You see, the bed stands here; the bureau, here; a sofa, here; the safe, here. There are several chairs. You want to look sharp for them.”
“‘I’ll be sure to do that.’
“‘All right. But the first thing will be to look after him. He’ll probably wake up the instant you open the door from the bath-room. He’s like a weasel, for light sleeping. You can’t breathe, but he’ll wake up. He’ll wake up, and most likely call out, “Who’s there? Is any one there?” or something of that sort. Don’t you answer. Don’t you use any threats. You can’t scare him. Give him time, and he’ll make an outcry. Give him a chance, and he’ll fight. So, you don’t want to give him either time or chance. The first thing you do, you march straight up to the bed, and catch him by the throat; hold him down on the pillow, and clap the sponge over his face. Press the sponge hard. One breath will finish his voice. Another breath will finish him. Then you’ll have things all your own way.—Well, do you know what next?’
“‘Next, I’m to fasten the sponge tight where it belongs, and pour on more of the stuff.’