"What have we to do?"
"We have to take a chance of sudden death!" he answered, "but we will
minimize it as much as possible."
Seeing me about to give voice to one of the many questions which
literally burned upon my tongue:
"Explanations can come later," said he. "Where can I find a candle?"
"There is one on the dressing-table just to the left of the window. I
will get it--"
But he grasped my arm roughly, and:
"This is _my_ business! Wait here for me," he rapped tersely.
He heard the rasp of the match upon the box, as I struck a light to
guide him in his search. Whereupon:
"I thought I warned you!" he cried, and struck the match from my hand.
"_No light_!"
With that he pushed open the door, and I saw his square figure
outlined against the moon-bright open window as he crossed the room.
Since he had referred to the peril which hung over us, it was with
bated breath that I awaited his return, not in the least knowing what
to expect. A few moments later he returned with the candlestick.
"Now," said he, carefully reclosing the door, "light the candle."
Awed by something in his voice and manner, I did as he directed
without demur, noting with amazement, in the light thus created, how
simple yet how effective was the disguise which my friend had adopted.
He gave me no time for comment, however, but:
"Listen," said he. "I'm going to put this candle in your room and then
you and I are going to run.
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