"And wake her?" he asked in amazement.
I knocked at the door myself. There was no reply. I knocked again, with the same result.
"Open the door," I said, "or I will do it myself."
He obeyed me. The room was empty; and the bed had not been slept in.
Standing helpless on the threshold of the door, I looked into the empty room; hearing nothing but my heart thumping heavily, seeing nothing but the bed with the clothes on it undisturbed.
The sudden growling of the dog shook me back (if I may say so) into the possession of myself. He was looking through the balusters that guarded the landing. The head of a man appeared, slowly ascending the stairs. Acting mechanically, I held the dog back. Thinking mechanically, I waited for the man. The face of the new servant showed itself. The dog frightened him: he spoke in tones that trembled, standing still on the stairs.
"My master has sent me, sir—"
A voice below interrupted him. "Come back," I heard the Cur say; "I'll do it myself. Toller! where is Toller?"
The enraged dog, barking furiously, struggled to get away from me. I dragged him—the good honest creature who was incapable of concealments and treacheries!—into his master's room. In the moment before I closed the door again, I saw Toller down on his knees with his arms laid helplessly on the window-sill, staring up at the sky as if he had gone mad. There was no time for questions; I drove poor Ponto back into the room, and shut the door.
On the landing, I found myself face to face with the Cur.