I took it down and held it in my hand; and I stood and listened.
"What in the devil can it be ?" I heard a voice say.
It came from behind a door that faced me at the bottom of the stairs.
And another answered: "Shall we kill him ?" I strained to hear the answer, and could have sobbed with relief when Detchard's voice came grating and cold: "Wait a bit.

There'll be trouble if we strike too soon." There was a moment's silence.

Then I heard the bolt of the door cautiously drawn back.

Instantly I put out the light I held, replacing the lamp in the bracket.
"It's dark--the lamp's out.

Have you a light ?" said the other voice--Bersonin's.
No doubt they had a light, but they should not use it.