Samuel crouched in the
doorway, motionless, while the other worked at the lock. Samuel's
knees were trembling so that he could hardly stand up.
The door was opened without a sound having been made, and they stole
into the entrance. They listened--the house was as still as death.
Then Charlie flashed his lantern, and Samuel had quick glimpses of a
beautiful and luxuriously furnished house. It was nothing like
"Fairview," of course; but it was finer than Professor Stewart's home.
There was a library, with great leather armchairs; and in the rear a
dining room, where mirrors and cut glass flashed back the far-off
glimmer of the light.
"There's your door over there," whispered Charlie. "And you'd better
stay behind those curtains."
So Samuel took up his post; the light vanished and his companion
started for the floor above. Several times the boy heard the stairs
creaking, and his heart leaped into his throat; but then the sounds
ceased and all was still.
The minutes crawled by--each one seemed an age. He stood rooted to the
spot, staring into the darkness--half-hypnotized by the thought of the
door which he could not see, and of the person who might be asleep
behind it. Surely this was a ghastly way for a man to have to gain his
living--it were better to perish than to survive by such an ordeal!
Samuel was appalled by the terrors which took possession of him, and
the tremblings and quiverings which he could not control.
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