Koch began to be restless.
"What the devil ?" he cried suddenly and in impatience deserting his sentry duty, he, too, went down, hurrying and thumping with his heavy boots on the stairs.

The steps died away.
"Good heavens! What am I to do ?" Raskolnikov unfastened the hook, opened the door--there was no sound.
Abruptly, without any thought at all, he went out, closing the door as thoroughly as he could, and went downstairs.
He had gone down three flights when he suddenly heard a loud voice below--where could he go! There was nowhere to hide.

He was just going back to the flat.
"Hey there! Catch the brute!" Somebody dashed out of a flat below, shouting, and rather fell than ran down the stairs, bawling at the top of his voice.
"Mitka! Mitka! Mitka! Mitka! Mitka! Blast him!" The shout ended in a shriek; the last sounds came from the yard; all was still.

But at the same instant several men talking loud and fast began noisily mounting the stairs.

There were three or four of them.