right over the wall. There was just room to stand in comfort
between the window and the wall. The ground felt to the foot as if
it were cemented. Stooping down, I peered through the opening. I
could see nothing. It was black as pitch inside. The blind was
drawn right up; it seemed incredible that anyone could be at home,
and have gone to bed, leaving the blind up, and the window open. I
placed my ear to the crevice. How still it was! Beyond doubt, the
place was empty.

I decided to push the window up another inch or two, so as to
enable me to reconnoitre. If anyone caught me in the act, then
there would be an opportunity to describe the circumstances, and
to explain how I was just on the point of giving the alarm. Only,
I must go carefully. In such damp weather it was probable that the
sash would creak.

Not a bit of it. It moved as readily and as noiselessly as if it
had been oiled. This silence of the sash so emboldened me that I
raised it more than I intended. In fact, as far as it would go.
Not by a sound did it betray me. Bending over the sill I put my
head and half my body into the room. But I was no forwarder. I
could see nothing. Not a thing. For all I could tell the room
might be unfurnished. Indeed, the likelihood of such an
explanation began to occur to me. I might have chanced upon an
empty house. In the darkness there was nothing to suggest the
contrary. What was I to do?

Well, if the house was empty, in such a plight as mine I might be
said to have a moral, if not a legal, right, to its bare shelter.
Who, with a heart in his bosom, would deny it me? Hardly the most