On the corridor carpet outside the room, a slight rustling sound, continuous, barely perceptible, caught Fandor’s listening ear... Who was it?... Was it anyone at all?... Was it imagination? He listened intently... not a sound now.... But, yes... the same rustling sound... it was nearer – moving along the wall. Fandor closed his eyes for an instant, so vividly did he feel that someone was looking at him through the wall!

Seconds pulsed by – seconds that might culminate in a moment of horror – seconds passing steadily by in deathly succession, sinking into nothingness.

Had someone moved? Were there steps by the door?

Fandor thought he heard strange sounds all around him, in the room itself! His nerves were tensely strung: he was overwrought. Someone was certainly walking in the corridor!... He had felt a movement along the wall against which his bed stood!

Impossible to hesitate longer! The door knob, which he could not see in the darkness, must have moved... Fandor sensed this movement as surely as though he himself had placed his hand on the knob.

Yes, the door was going to open!

It was ajar... it was turning on its hinges – it was open... Someone was coming in .... Who?

Fandor lay still – he dared not move an eyelid; but in his mind he said:

Come in then! Take the trouble to come in!

Thus Fandor, who believed Death was entering the room, dared to welcome the grim visitor – with a sickly smile!

Nothing was happening... Fandor’s feverish excitement sank down to depression... He must have deceived himself – no one was entering the room – nothing untoward was happening! He had simply imagined the noises outside in the corridor, for nothing happened – nothing... and once more he was following the eternal tick-tock, tick-tock of the night-clock.

The head of Fandor’s bed was near the door. He could not, in the dense darkness, fix the point where he supposed the enemy would find him, and he again had the agonising conviction that they were very much at their ease – that they knew exactly where he was, and were quietly preparing their attack.

But had these unknown assassins entered the room?... Yes, it was certain – there were men behind him – bending over him with outstretched hands to strangle him!...

He could hear the sound their fingers made in passing through the air to grip his throat, to squeeze his life out!

Even if he lived a hundred years, Fandor would never forget the agonising thrill when he sensed that hidden danger! He held his revolver ready to fire. He thought: However I am attacked, I must not let slip this unique chance to learn the truth! I must seize the attacker at all costs, and leap to the electric switch, turn on the light – and I shall be saved! Saved!