But the silence deepened above him, and voices were faintly audible toward the front of the house.
That decided Ronicky.

He opened the door, blessing the well-oiled hinges which kept it from making any noise, and let a shaft from his pocket lantern flicker across the kitchen floor.

The light glimmered on the newly scrubbed surface and showed him a door to his right, opening into the main part of the house.
He passed through it at once and sighed with relief when his foot touched the carpet on the hall beyond.

He noted, too, that there was no sign of a creak from the boards beneath his tread.

However old that house might be, he was a noble carpenter who laid the flooring, Ronicky thought, as he slipped through the semi-gloom.