He did not answer. He appeared to be listening. Nancy listened also. The house seemed still as death.
“Perhaps I was mistaken,” said Captain Fennel, beginning to recover himself after a bit. “I dare say I was.”
“Well, I think you must have been, Edwin; I can’t hear anything. We had better open the door.”
She undid the bolt as she spoke, and he moved away from it. Nancy cautiously took a step outside, and kept still. Not a sound met her ear. Then she brought forth the candle and looked down the staircase. Not a sign of anything or any one met her eye.
“Edwin, there’s nothing, there’s nobody; come and see. You must have fancied it.”
“No doubt,” answered Captain Fennel. But he did not go to see, for all that.
Nancy went back to the room. “Won’t you just look downstairs?” she said. “I—I don’t much mind going with you.”
“Not any necessity,” replied he, and began to undress—and slipped the bolt again.
“Why do you bolt the door to-night?” asked Nancy.