He was just taking a step towards the stairs when he heard fresh footsteps.
The steps sounded very far off, at the very bottom of the stairs, but he remembered quite clearly and distinctly that from the first sound he began for some reason to suspect that this was someone coming _there_, to the fourth floor, to the old woman.

Why?
Were the sounds somehow peculiar, significant?
The steps were heavy, even and unhurried.

Now _he_ had passed the first floor, now he was mounting higher, it was growing more and more distinct! He could hear his heavy breathing.

And now the third storey had been reached.

Coming here! And it seemed to him all at once that he was turned to stone, that it was like a dream in which one is being pursued, nearly caught and will be killed, and is rooted to the spot and cannot even move one's arms.
At last when the unknown was mounting to the fourth floor, he suddenly started, and succeeded in slipping neatly and quickly back into the flat and closing the door behind him.