It was plain and white, rather ruder of make than those below, but
offering no inducements for prolonged scrutiny. But not so with the
one that stood at right angles to it on the left. Full in the centre
of that, I beheld distinctly scrawled, probably with the very piece
of chalk I then held, a red cross precisely similar in outline to the
one I had seen a few days before on the panel of the Schoenmakers'
door at Granby.
The discovery sent a thrill over me that almost raised my hair on end.
Was, then, this famous trio to be found in the very house in which I
had been myself living for a week or more? over my head in fact? I
could not withdraw my gaze from the mysterious looking object. I bent
near, I listened, I heard what sounded like the suppressed snore of a
powerful man, and almost had to lay hold of myself to prevent my hand
from pushing open that closed door and my feet from entering. As it
was I did finger the knob a little, but an extra loud snore from
within reminded me by its suggestion of strength that I was but a
small man and that in this case and at this hour, discretion was the
better part of valor.
I therefore withdrew, but for the whole night lay awake listening to
catch any sounds that might come from above, and going so far as to
plan what I would do if it should be proved that I was indeed upon
the trail of the men I was so anxious to encounter.
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