down again. Finally, by exerting all my strength, I
succeeded in supporting myself with the edge of my boot upon
a crossbar about half way up; then, taking a small rope from
my pocket I threw one end of it over the gate, holding the
other in my teeth. Tying it securely by a noose I climbed
hand over hand to the top and then let myself down on the
other side. I was quite exhausted by the effort
(unaccustomed as I was to such burglarious enterprises) and
my fingers were torn and bleeding from forcing a hold
between the iron work and the wire screen. I remembered the
gravel pathway, overgrown with grass, that led from the big
gate to a front door. I groped about in the darkness until I
felt the gravel under my feet. Then I moved cautiously along
it, until I could dimly discern the outlines of the house.
My nerves were so wrought up, while I stood there holding my
breath to catch some sound from its gloomy interior, that I
was near crying out in abject terror at every step. An owl,
startled from the limb of a tree over my head, flew lazily
into the upper air and across the thicket, disturbing other
birds that set up a chattering protest. Stealthily I crept
from window to window, but the blinds were closed fast.
Finally I came to a door that seemed to open into the main
part of the building. Desperate under the strain to which my
nerves had been subjected, I knocked loudly on its upper
panels. The sound echoed through the still house and the
thickly wooded grounds around it. "God help me!" I
whispered; "will that echo never cease?" It kept repeating
itself from tree to tree, until I covered my ears to stop
its weird reverberations. Then I heard a low threatening
sound, deep and resonant as the lower tones of a great