After which the window was cleared once more, and Brice could hear receding steps.
But he gave no heed to the steps.

For as the last of the unseen things had been slid through the aperture, another sound had focused all his attention, and had sent queer little quivers up his spine.
The sound had been a long-drawn hiss.
And Gavin Brice understood.

Now he knew why the softly falling bodies had slithered so oddly down the short distance between window and floor.

And he read aright the slippery crawling little noises that had been assailing his ears.
The unseen man outside had thrust through the ventilator not less than seven or eight snakes, carried thither, presumably, in bags.
Crouching on his long box Gavin peered about him.

Faintly against the dense gray of the shadowy floor, he could see thick ropelike forms twisting sinuously to and fro, as if exploring their new quarters or seeking exit.