I was rather pleased than otherwise, for it relieved the tension, and I breathed more freely. The apparition of that claw-like hand before my face had, I believe, somewhat upset my nerves.
“Is that you, Shaw?” I called out, but there was no response.
All was quiet. The movement in the adjoining room had ceased.
Already I had satisfied myself that nobody could enter my room, both doors being bolted on the inside, but I slipped again out of bed, and, going to the communicating door, rapped upon it, crying—
“Shaw! Shaw! Are you asleep?”
“Hulloa?” growled a sleepy voice. “Why, what’s up, eh?”
“Nothing,” I laughed. “Are you still in bed?”
“Of course I am, why? What’s the matter? Anything wrong?”
“No, nothing,” I replied. “Only I heard you groaning, that’s all. Talking in your sleep, I expect.”
“I—I didn’t know,” he said. “Sorry, Kemball, if I disturbed you.”