I could
hear no sound of movement anywhere near me, and yet I knew quite well
that my hidden assailant was close at hand. Just then, I heard at last
what I had been listening for so long and so eagerly, footsteps and a
voice in the corridor outside. Somebody sprang past me in the darkness,
and, for a second, amazement kept me motionless. The thing was
impossible, or I could have sworn that my feet were brushed by the skirts
of a woman's gown, and that a whiff of perfume--it was like the scent of
dying violets--floated past me. Then the door of my room, from which I
had withdrawn the bolt, was flung suddenly open, and almost
simultaneously my fingers touched the knob of the electric light
fittings. The whole place was flooded with light. I looked around, half
dazed, but eager to see what had become of my assailants. Both rooms were
empty, or apparently so. There was no sign or evidence of any other
person there save myself. On the threshold of my own apartment was
standing the night porter.
"Have you let them go by?" I called out.
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