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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"The House of the Wolf; a romance"

And the night was full of
phantoms.
Perhaps all this was mere nervousness, the outcome of my
position. At any rate I felt no more of it when Croisette joined
me. We had our daggers, and that gave me some comfort. If we
could once gain entrance to the house opposite, we had only to
beg, or in the last resort force our way downstairs and out, and
then to hasten with what speed we might to Pavannes' dwelling.
Clearly it was a question of time only now; whether Bezers' band
or we should first reach it. And struck by this I whispered
Marie to be quick. He seemed to be long in coming.
He scrambled down hand over hand at last, and then I saw that he
had not lingered above for nothing. He had contrived after
getting out of the window to let down the shutter. And more he
had at some risk lengthened our rope, and made a double line of
it, so that it ran round a hinge of the shutter; and when he
stood beside us, he took it by one end and disengaged it. Good,
clever Marie!
"Bravo!" I said softly, clapping him on the back.


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