Sure enough, a couple of hours later I heard his door open. I almost didn’t hear it. After everyone else had gone to bed I turned out my light, propped my door open about half an inch, and sat down on the floor next to the crack.

The rain had stopped by that time, and the moon poured cold silver light through the open window. The slow drip of moisture from the leaves was as soothing as a lullaby. My eyelids got heavy….

What with sleepiness and stiffness, it took me a couple of minutes to get limbered up and follow Tony. I had planned to bounce out at him, figuring I owed him a scare or two, but on second thought I decided I would follow the sneaky little rascal and see what he was up to.

By the time I reached the gallery above the Great Hall, Tony was halfway down the stairs. I waited in the shadows; I could see all right, thanks to the moonlight, but the Hall was an eerie place. If I hadn’t known it was Tony up ahead, the shadowy figure gliding down the stairs would have scared hell out of me. At any rate, the countess wasn’t walking tonight. There was a flash of reflected light from the row of armored figures against the wall, but no movement except for Tony.

Tony walked out into a patch of moonlight that lay quivering across the floor. He looked as uneasy as I felt; he kept glancing over his shoulder at the shadowy area under the stairs. I couldn’t move without his seeing me, so I stayed put, but I didn’t like my location. Almost half the area of the Hall was hidden from my sight by the gallery. If Tony went back under the stairs I might lose him.

One of the suits of armor got down off its pedestal and started walking toward Tony.

Seven

A RATIONALIST IS AT A DISADVANTAGE when events are irrational. One of the count’s contemporaries would have howled with terror and bolted. Tony wasted several vital seconds trying to tell himself that what he saw wasn’t really happening.

I could see the armor quite clearly in the moonlight. It was armed cap-à-pie, and the metal plates clanked musically with each stiff stride. The visor was closed. I saw the right arm go up; the fan-shaped piece of steel at the elbow spread like a peacock’s tail. The mailed hand held a long dagger.

At long last, Tony moved. He moved backward, and I didn’t blame him a bit. Unfortunately, his retreat took him into the hidden area under the stairs, and when the armor followed him I couldn’t see either of them. I heard a clank, and a howl from Tony, and deduced, through a haze of horror and disbelief, that the idiot had swung at the armor, which was a damned silly thing to do….