He was within three yards of us, this sinister figure,
and I had braced myself to meet his spring, before I realized that
he had no idea of our presence. He passed close beside us, stole
over to the window, and very softly and noiselessly raised it for
half a foot. As he sank to the level of this opening, the light of
the street, no longer dimmed by the dusty glass, fell full upon his
face. The man seemed to be beside himself with excitement. His
two eyes shone like stars, and his features were working convul-
sively. He was an elderly man, with a thin, projecting nose, a
high, bald forehead, and a huge grizzled moustache. An opera
hat was pushed to the back of his head, and an evening dress
shirt-front gleamed out through his open overcoat. His face was
gaunt and swarthy, scored with deep, savage lines. In his hand
he carried what appeared to be a stick, but as he laid it down
upon the floor it gave a metallic clang. Then from the pocket of
his overcoat he drew a bulky object, and he busied himself in
some task which ended with a loud, sharp click, as if a spring or
bolt had fallen into its place.
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