He saw one or two sailors swaying rather more than the customary motion of a ship, pass by, and then a watchman carrying a club in one hand and a lantern in the other, and blowing his frosty breath upon his thick brown beard, indicating that the night although bright was very cold.
He looked through the glass at least a half hour, and then turned back to the bed, but found himself less inclined than ever to sleep.

Throwing his coat over his shoulders, he opened the unlocked door and went into the hall, intending to walk back and forth a little, believing that the easy exercise would induce desire for sleep.
He was surprised to find a thread of light in the dusk of the hall, at a time when he was quite sure everybody in the house except himself was buried in slumber, and when he traced it he found it came from another room farther down.

It was, upon the instant, his belief that robbers had entered.

In a port like New York, where all nations come, there must be reckless and desperate men who would hesitate at no risk or crime.
He moved cautiously along the hall, until he reached the door from which the light shone.

It was open about six inches, not allowing a look into the room except at the imminent risk of discovery, but by placing his ear at the sill he would be able to hear the footsteps of men if they were moving within.