"The Noise!" The word repeated itself dully of its own accord. I would
rather it had been anything in the world but that--earthquake, foreign
cannon, collapse of the house above our heads! "The Noise, Frances! Are
you sure?" I was playing really for a little time.
"It was like thunder. At first I thought it was thunder. But a minute
later it came again--from underground. It's appalling." She muttered the
words, her voice not properly under control.
There was a pause of perhaps a minute, and then we both spoke at once.
We said foolish, obvious things that neither of us believed in for a
second. The roof had fallen in, there were burglars downstairs, the
safes had been blown open. It was to comfort each other as children do
that we said these things; also it was to gain further time.
"There's some one in the house, of course," I heard my voice say
finally, as I sprang out of bed and hurried into dressing gown and
slippers. "Don't be alarmed. I'll go down and see," and from the drawer
I took a pistol it was my habit to carry everywhere with me. I loaded it
carefully while Frances stood stock-still beside the bed and watched. I
moved towards the open door.
"You stay here, Frances," I whispered, the beating of my heart making
the words uneven, "while I go down and make a search.
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