The senses of a sleepless person are extraordinarily acute, and as the hours dragged on Martin became annoyed at the regular snores of Susan Gollop in the room beyond. Dick happened to be out on night duty again. For a long time the only other sounds Martin heard were the footsteps of Mr. Seymour as he went along the passage above and up the stairs to his room.
“He’s very late home,” thought Martin.
He heard the lodger shut his door; then all was silent again until a new sound, outside his window, caught his ear. It was a slight thud, such as would be made by a small object falling on the ground, and he might hardly have noticed it had not recent events made him heedful and suspicious.
Rising from his bed he tiptoed on bare feet to the window and looked out, taking care to keep out of sight himself. It was a starry night, and he saw a dark patch against the sky—the form of a man standing on the square of waste ground above the basement level.
His thoughts flew to the man who had climbed the gutter pipe to the old Frenchman’s room, and his heart began to beat more quickly. Then he heard whispering voices. The man was evidently talking to someone on one of the upper floors. Only a few words were spoken, then the man walked quickly away.
Martin was relieved; it seemed that there was to be no further attack on the Frenchman’s room. But he was also puzzled. Who was the man? Why should anyone come in the dead of night to the back of the house and talk to one of the inmates? And to whom had he spoken? It must be either Mounseer or Mr. Seymour.
Still listening and watching, Martin suddenly heard the stairs creak. More than ever puzzled, and a little alarmed, he stole out into the passage. There were now footsteps in the hall above. He crept up the basement stairs on hands and knees, and noticed a dim flickering light upon the wall.
At the top of the staircase he bent low and peeped round. A smoky candle was guttering on the hall floor. The front door was partly open, and Martin saw the back of a man in nightcap and dressing-gown, talking to someone outside.
“Mr. Seymour!” said Martin to himself. “It’s too tall for Mounseer.”
“The sloop is in the river,” said a husky voice. “It’s too risky. You had better take it.”