Here, louder,
but confused with a gentle scuffing of feet, sounded the voices of the
rival lodge.
Toward these he crawled, stopping at every creak of the tiles. Once a
broken roll snapped off, and slid rattling down the roof. He sat up,
every muscle ready for the sudden leap and shove that would send him
sliding after it into the lower darkness. It fell but a short distance,
into something soft. Gradually he relaxed, but lay very still. Nothing
followed; no one had heard.
He tried again, crawled forward his own length, and brought up snug and
safe in the angle where roof met wall. The voices and shuffling feet
were dangerously close. He sat up, caught a shaft of light full in his
face, and peered in through the ragged chink. Two legs in bright,
wrinkled hose, and a pair of black shoes with thick white soles, blocked
the view. For a long time they shifted, uneasy and tantalizing. He could
hear only a hubbub of talk,--random phrases without meaning. The legs
moved away, and left a clear space.
But at the same instant, a grating noise startled him, directly
overhead, out of doors. The thin right angle of light spread instantly
into a brilliant square.
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