"I am not sure," said the lawyer with some hesitation.
Suddenly the crying or singing voice in the next room died away, and the singer was heard seemingly to laugh to himself in a crooning manner. The three men actually shivered at the sound. Then there was a silence.
"Come," said the lawyer, "what have you to say, Herr Kristensen? What does this mean?"
"Good Heaven!" said Kristensen. "How should I tell! I know no more than you, gentlemen. I pray I may never hear such a noise again."
"So do I," said Herr Jensen, and he added something under his breath. Anderson thought it sounded like the last words of the Psalter, "omnis spiritus laudet Dominum," but he could not be sure.
"But we must do something," said Anderson—"the three of us. Shall we go and investigate in the next room?"
"But that is Herr Jensen's room," wailed the landlord. "It is no use; he has come from there himself."
"I am not so sure," said Jensen. "I think this gentleman is right: we must go and see."
The only weapons of defence that could be mustered on the spot were a stick and umbrella. The expedition went out into the passage, not without quakings. There was a deadly quiet outside, but a light shone from under the next door. Anderson and Jensen approached it. The latter turned the handle, and gave a sudden vigorous push. No use. The door stood fast.