Then suddenly, silently, the door opened a mere crack, letting in a gleam of yellow light from the main cabin, while the crouching figure of a man, like a gliding shadow slipped through the aperture, closing the door behind him as softly as he had opened it.

I heard her catch her breath, and felt her hands grasp my sleeve, but I never stirred.

The fellow had neither seen nor heard us, and I stared into the black curtain, endeavoring to locate him by some sound of movement.
Who could he be?
What might be the purpose of his entrance?
But one answer occurred to me--Pedro Estada, driven by unbridled passions to attack the girl.

Mad as such an act would be, yet no other explanation seemed possible.

I thrust her behind me, and took a step forward, with body poised for action.